“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

“Choose your battles.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

These are sage words of wisom I really need to pay more attention to for the sake of the nation.

Well, no, Canada is fine whether or not I continue to lose my shit on the daily or not.

I am decidedly un-Zen. I cannot ‘Let it Go’ despite the repeated sentiments of Elsa. I’m not referring to anything in particular lest you be concerned or think this is one of those vague attention seeking posts.

“Can’t do it anymore.”

Those are my FAVOURITE Facebook posts. Especially if the post-er waits until five or six people have asked what’s wrong only to answer with something equally as cryptic: “I’ll never be able to eat gouda again (sad face emoji)!” or even better: “I can’t talk about it on here…” I have literally blocked people for this shit because fuck around, if you’ve got a problem deal with it or keep it to yourself.

I tend to fall more on the “deal with it” side of things when it comes to problems but I’m usually “too aggressive” or “unnecessarily mean”. Pussies.

I’m lettin’ er all hang out today, kids. I’ve censored myself quite a bit up until now because I didn’t want to offend anyone but have learned I offend people either way so for those who find my particular brand of sarcastic bitchiness endearing, here I am in all my full asshole glory!

I started my day with this mantra: “I can’t control anything else” and by this afternoon was softly singing “I don’t give a fuck” with a few falsetto “fuck its” thrown in for good measure.  I am nothing but gentle in my decision to fully embrace a “zero fucks given” mantra. It’s silly to give fucks about things you can’t control anyway. I need to save those fucks up for stuff like the Oiler game tonight, music, books, and my fam. For the record those aren’t in order of importance (my husband probably got really excited there for a minute).

Earlier today I was feeling less gentle and raced someone on the way to work. He had no idea we were racing. In fact it would have been just as easy to pull in behind him but I was angry on the way to work today and felt better racing a stranger in his half ton. It makes me laugh a little now because I was literally raging and singing at the top of my lungs when I passed him only to maybe almost cut him off to hit my exit. I suspect I looked possessed, deranged, or most likely of all, both.

Oh, one more thing and it’s a bit of a surprise….


I might be experiencing a touch of the PMS.





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