I was just really hungry for a family-sized bag of Chex Mix.
Someone had to tell you that you’re breathing too loudly.
The dishwasher needed to be kicked.
That elderly lady on the freeway was totally asking to be flipped off.
I always sob during poignant episodes of Scooby-Doo.
I’m scowling because you’re scowling you stupid loud breathing scowling scowler.
The Returns Lady at Target is out to get me.
The zipper on my pants is out to get me.
The world at large is out to get me.
I might be out to get me.
The Jiffy Lube radio commercials are total tearjerkers.
I always put two cups of chocolate syrup in my coffee.
The bathroom mirror is an asshole.
The bathroom scale is an asshole.
The bathroom AND EVERYTHING BATHROOM RELATED is an asshole.
But especially the goddamn bathroom scale.
I told you, I don’t have PMS.
You’re just doing everything wrong today.
This was so perfect. I loved it. Well expressed and I hope your bloatedness and everyone being an asshole-ness goes away soon!
Chalk one up for menopause…
They may not all be gems, but this one is.
Me neither. I don’t cry over silly commercials either. Or snarf a whole tray of brownies.
P.S. The bathroom scale IS an asshole.
All very valid thoughts!!!
I promise to keep my mom off the freeways from now on.
I overtook and passed you in the McDonald’s drive-thru because you’re a slowpoke asshole.
I’m SO trying the choco syrup in my coffee. Brilliant!
I want to print this out on business cards and just hand them to people before I even start talking to them! It would save so much time.
LOL! Yeah, I needed this one today.
And i’m reminded once again what a fucking ridiculous question it was when my ob/gyn asked me if “I was really ok with losing such a vital part of my womanhood” right before my hysterectomy. Hell yes!!
The whole world is happier.
I always do a complete reevaluation of my life because I’m so sad and there must be something missing and what is wrong with me.
Damn bathrooms are out to get us all
yep, sounds about right:) but funnier when you say it.
I am sure my bathroom scale is possessed…
Not only is the bathroom scale an asshole, it’s in cahoots with the mirror, my bathing suit and the idiots driving around town.
Chocolate covered pretzels seem to ease my agitation with all of the above. Except the bathroom scale.
I’m not alone. I’m not alone!
My bathroom scale is an asshole too. Like, every day. And so is my mirror, and the mirrors in every single department store.