I have a cold. I feel like sh*t. I am a crabby, pissy b*tch, and I feel truly sorry for anyone who had to have anything to do with me today. Well, almost anyone, because there are the few, the proud, the faithful, who, even when I hit rock bottom and am so b*tchy I can't even stand myself, continue to come back for more. Kudos to these crazy b*tches because they always end up making me laugh!
After I dragged my *ss out of bed and got kiddo #1 off to school without a fight (HUGE victory) I got #2 ready and took a shower. My head was feeling a lil' stuffy, throat kinda felt like I swallowed broken glass, voice kinda sounded like a 12 year old boy going through puberty, but I figured it's just a friggin cold, I'll forge ahead with my day. I sat down to check the computer, and WTF, my head started pounding as well. Ahhh, f*ck! I logged onto facebook, hit my status and wrote, "Got nothin new, sick and feel crappy" and then put a link to the blog. Let me make this clear, I know that nobody on my fb page (other than the people that I talk to on a regular basis) really gives a rat's *ss that I'm sick. I just felt that I had to put it out there b/c we haven't written anything new in a few days, and I wanted to give you, our faithful readers, an explanation. So I wrote I'm sick, my daughter and I get our jackets on, and begin to walk out the door. Then...the mother f'n phone rings!
Without even checking caller id I knew who it was...my mom. My first thought, "Jeeeezus, I just posted that I didn't feel good like 30 seconds ago and she's already calling me." Second thought, "she f*cking knows we have dance right now on Fridays." Third thought, "I'm not answering, she'll just call my cell." Sure enough, putting the kiddo in the car, my cell starts singing and dancing in my pocket. I answered like this, "I'm not really sick. I still have the same cold. You know we have dance right now, why are you calling me?" OMG how many of you want to smack me across the face right now? She said to me, "Jeez, I was just going to ask if you were feeling any better, but I guess not." So then I eat crow a little bit, and tell her, no I don't feel better, obviously, and we're late for dance, as usual, we can talk later if she wants (which unbelievably she does).
We got to dance, I stayed in my own little corner of the world, pretending to be super busy doing something on my phone so none of the DM's would talk to me. Not that they would want to, one glance at the look on my face would probably have them pissing themselves. Not the most pleasant b*tch this morning.
My little one and I leave dance, and I need to go shopping for shoes for an event I'm attending this weekend. Thankfully, one of my daughter's favorite things in the world is to go shopping for high heels, so she's beyond pumped & in the best mood ever. Plus I promise her McD's for lunch after, which is purely selfish on my part b/c I'm too f*cking tired to make lunch and I'm craving a large Diet Coke with extra ice. We get into the dept. store, find some kick *ss thigh high boots to wear with my dress and bring them over to the shoe lady so she can get my size. My lil' one is looking around, in all her glory, showing me every shoe that is in her line of sight. Finally, the lady brings out the boots and hands them to me. I say, "Thank you." Now, you would think that would be her cue to leave, right? Shoo, vamanos, get the f*ck out of my face, lady, something, but no, she just stood there, watching, nodding, and waiting. No clue why, she just kept hovering. Ummm excuse me, but if you're going to f*cking stand there, why not earn your commission and get down on the floor and put the g-d damn boot on my foot? She was annoying the piss out of me, but I kept my cool, bought the boots, and got the h*ll outta there.
McDonald's was next. Kiddo got her meal, I got my Diet Coke (ahhh, orgasm in a cup), then my phone rang again. It was TT, my BFF since jr. high. I answer, "Hello." She replies,"Heeeellloooo," mocking me. I say back to her in all seriousness, "I'm really not in the mood for your f*cking shit today." Does she tell me to go f*ck myself? Does she hang up on me? No, she keeps f*cking talking to me as if I hadn't said anything at all. Blah, blah, blah. We ended up on the phone for 45 minutes, and I truly can't even tell you what we talked about, or why she even stayed on the phone with me. Crazy b*tch.
Later in the day I fell asleep for a few minutes on the couch while my little one was watching tv. Older daughter gets home from school, my head was spinning. Definitely time for more meds. Holy sh*t, it's now time to take her to the mall to buy her "boyfriend" a present for Valentine's Day (she's 11). I bundle up the kids, pick up her best friend because, duhhhh when you're in sixth grade you need your friend to go with you to do, well, EVERYTHING! We get to the mall and she decides on a gift, but she wants TT's advice. We call TT, she gives the thumbs up. TT and I start talking, about some bullsh*t or another. I said, "I think I'm gonna write a post about how crabby I am today." Her reply, "Well that shouldn't be hard." Hahahaha we both started to laugh, and then she reminded me what I said on the phone this morning, you know, "I'm not in the mood for your sh*t..." I am so not kidding when I tell you that I didn't even remember saying it. We both got hysterical laughing at what a total crotchy b*tch on wheels I can be. I guess when you've known each other for as long as we have you just learn to laugh at the obnoxious qualities in each other (in this case me) especially when they feel like sh*t.
I guess it's only right for me to say sorry Mama, sorry TT, sorry to the f*cking annoying stalker ho at the store today. Not really, she would have pissed me off on a good day.
Please forgive me if this doesn't make too much sense. Did I tell you that I don't feel good? Nighty night b*tches, be well!
YSYRFT? (You sure you're ready for this?)
Welcome to B*tches in the Burbs. We're not sure how you got here, but we're glad you did. We absolutely can't wait to get started, but we need to warn everyone that this blog may be offensive to you if you are not truly a b*tchy girl. B*tchy girls can be found everywhere: young, old, any race, size, religion, etc. They can be married, divorced, single, engaged, moms, college students...the list goes on and on.
If the mere mention of mom jeans, candle parties, scrapbooking, or bunco excites you, trust us, this is DEFINITLEY NOT the site for you. STOP READING now and go back to your arts n crafts.
We have many friends who enjoy these different activities, and we're not looking to make mortal enemies, although we're pretty sure we will piss people off. To that we say TOO DAMN BAD. For those of you who continue to read despite the warning and are going to be offended, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, get off now. We don't want to hear, nor do we care about your bitchy comments or complaints about what we say. We're just trying to have a little fun!
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