Of all the things that will be said over my incinerated remains (I want to be cremated; can't stand the thought of being a preserved body) at my funeral, my undying patience will not be one of them. Never having been a patient woman, I don't miss my patience because it was never in me. I try, but can't seem to muster it up for long and find that it leaves me as quickly as it came (hmmm, is that the theme of my life?).
Yesterday was a snowy, yucky kind of day. I would normally not leave the house under such conditions, but if I didn't get dog food the dogs would have revolted and there might have been an ugly hostage situation. Wanting to spare my dogs jail time, and also having a deep conviction that humans have a choice over their food while my animals don't, I ventured forth to get them their food. It was snowing pretty good and the roads were mostly snow covered with limited visibility. I was going the posted speed limit where it was safe to do so, but there was a dill hole on my arse that didn't think snow packed roads were a reason to drive safely. For the record, I don't drive overly fast and I don't drive like I am in a parade, waving to the spectators as I poke along. I usually try to stay near the speed limit, only allowing myself about 5 miles over it -- not being able to afford a ticket or having a good reason for speeding, I have no where to be at any certain time. So to have my hind quarters ridden like that really irritated me. I slowed down to let said dill hole know I didn't appreciate him/her/it/thing 2 trying to climb into my back seat. As soon as there was an opening, they went to pass me. Just to make sure there was no gray area about how I felt about their driving, I rolled down my window and stuck my hand out with only one finger prominently displayed while they were going around me. After they had passed, I wanted to leave them with a loving reminder of my feelings towards them, so I drove on their hind quarters with two hands up and my middle fingers out long enough to make sure they couldn't miss my gesture. After they had sped along (I was disappointed I didn't see them later in a ditch; I'm such a forgiving person!) I thought about my lack of patience and what could have happened if they had been "packing heat." Not sure what the gun laws are in good ol' Nebraska, but I am sure not everyone cares about them. I figured at best I would have been picking buck shot out of my aft end, at worst they would have been up on murder charges.
Telling Sugarbowl about it later, she said that whenever she loses her patience like that, she worries that she will see them again and things will get ugly. That didn't cross my mind. I had rather hoped to see them again to give them an uncensored piece of my mind. Maybe as divine punishment, I broke both naughty finger nails later that day. Not that that will stop me in the future; so I may have a session of picking buck shot out of my butt cheeks looming down the road somewhere.
One other thing of interest from yesterday then I am off to get some stuff done around here. While waiting in line at Target to buy the cutest set of pajamas for Princess, a woman in a full length fur coat, nails done, hair perfectly coiffed, and all fancy looking, told me she loved my hat, it is "soooo cute!" I was wearing my stocking cap with the eyes and ears on it, not exactly fancy stuff, or too mature for that matter. I thanked her but couldn't help wondering if someone who gets all decked out on such a rotten day, when there can't be too many people to enviously observe her, could possibly like such a hat. And, of course, me being rather pessimistic yesterday, it crossed my mind that maybe she just wanted to make the gimp feel good.
An unfair thing to think, I know, but I can't help it. I am always suspicious of people being too nice to me, especially when I am cross and foul and not exactly walking around looking like a pleasant person. Or maybe she was impressed that someone would actually leave the house wearing such a thing, it being so cheap and tacky! I really don't care one way or the other. I am most comfortable being cheap and tacky.
An Interview with Body Builder David Lyons
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2 comments:
1. I will be cremated because I can't bear the thought of being buried. Plus I like fire...I breathe fire too.
2. I have no patie--
3. My license has been expired since August and my car was supposed to be inspected in Oct. I'm runnin' from the law..
I too prefer cremation.
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