and take THAT you stupid fork!

I like arguing with inanimate objects.

This morning, I found a pair of jeans I really liked and hadn't worn in months. Since I've lost weight I'm rather excited about slipping these booty huggers on. After a silent prayer to the tummy gods, I carefully slide them on and up my hips...MERLIN'S VAGINA! THEY FIT! Sliding my shoes on and giving my hair a last look, I proceed to button the jeans and pull the zipper up...er....pull the...pull. Grunt. YANK the zipp...ouch! Hand goes flying up and smacking myself in the lips. I look down puzzled. The pants fit loose, there's no obvious obstruction...pull, grunt, pant, breathe, pulllll. At this point I'm getting aggravated, borderline psychopathic anger at this pair of jeans. I literally feel as if the jeans are evil and are TRYING to actually piss me off this early in the morning. It's as if they have a mind of their own, specially when I decide to take them off, and the one pant leg gets so tightly bundled up on my ankle that in order to take the jeans off i have to sit down and roll one leg out at a time. By this time I'm actually arguing out loud with them. "Oh yeah? You think you're gonna win?" I say yanking the pants off. "See? SEE? HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT BITCH?", I scream as I finally free my leg from the pant leg. I toss the jeans aside and literally flip them off...(Reader, if you know me well enough, you know I will have this same argument a month down the road. As I'll forget why I never wear the jeans and I'll wash em and put em up with the rest of them).

Sometimes, when I drop things (keys, pen, etc), I look up...almost like cursing myself for being clumsy and asking the skies "Why are you doing this to me?". I'll then proceed to have a lengthy, inside-my-head rant towards things that fall when you are in the middle of something and every second is precious (like coming in the house wanting to pee really bad and dropping something important, forcing you to do the holding your pee dance while bending over carefully and picking everything up). There's also the times when I drop the same object several times in less than a minute. i.e. a fork or other utensil. I'll pick it up once, and halfway up it'll magically slip from my hands, landing noisily again. I'll look at it, serious glare, and pick it up again and OOPS there it goes again...three sometimes up to FOUR times. At this point, when I have it firmly it my grasp with NO possibility of escaping, I proceed to slam it hard against the floor yelling "THERE! YOU WANNA FALL?! HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?! YOU LIKE THE FLOOR?!", while repeatedly kicking it around till I believe it's thirst to be anywhere but in my sink has been quenched.

There's also my guitar anger situation. I seem to believe it is the guitar's fault I keep missing the last 2 notes on the scale. After yelling at it for 30 minutes, my anger now is focused at my pinky finger..."WHY THE FUCK CANT YOU HIT THAT NOTE?! YOU PUSSY!" is often my insult of choice. But I guess my pinky doesn't qualify as an inanimate object, so I won't elaborate on what I say to it when...an hour later, it's doing even worse than in the beginning.

I think it's healthy. Maybe I'm grumpy a lot, but I've been reading up on it and apparently it's a side effect to my diabetes. I have, in fact, noticed it since I got diagnosed in Oct of 2005. I used to never get angry, nowadays office supplies and house decorations scurry as I walk by. I don't even know why sometimes, and it frustrates me when I realize I'm blowing things out of proportion. But I guess it's better than taking it out on people. So, for now, hide your things...I'll yell at them.

"When angry, count to four. When very angry, swear." - Mark Twain