I try very hard not to harbor ill will for any fellow human beings. Most of the time my sarcastic side pops up and like the cartoon devil on the shoulder, says, "Except those assholes who really deserve it" or "Unless they cut me off in traffic" or some other little witticism. However, those who I find most difficult to forgive or get along with, or basically keep from getting pissed off by, are those closest to me. I do not for once feel that I am alone in this endeavor. Not for a second. I assume I am fairly normal. Of course, I have been wrong before. But I digress.
Today has been very trying for those of us - meaning me - who are just trying to get by without hating anyone or smacking the shit out of anyone. There are days - and this was not one of them - where I should not have gotten out of bed that morning, where every movement I make was doomed to failure. Last Thursday for example. There are other days when life seems an adventure and a delight sipped on the verandah. This was not one of those either. It was irritating in a minor way. I had planned on making some calls to try to find a venue for my new writers' group to meet in an accessible location and some other personal business. I did get some calls from some friends I had not talked to in a while, and that was great. And my oldest got a school award which was nice, but later maligned by a smarmy comment of St Timothy of the Besotted Barrel.
So what is my real issue? Can it be the three floors I have had to clean after a three year old after 10 pm this evening? Can it be the demanding tones employed by the prepubescent princess of the household? Or can it be the smarmy comment or my exhaustion and resulting inability to come up with a smarmier retort?
After analyzing the data carefully, I have determined that the real crux of the issue is that these days are occurring now, and not back before I sat on the cushion, so I could have just smacked the shit out of all of them, confessed it on Saturday afternoon in the wooden closet, and then emerged to greet another week of living with my family in the suburbs, slate wiped clean, no harm, no foul. Damn.