Tuesday, March 27, 2012

My head hurts too much to come up with a witty title...

I would like to thank you idiots of the world for this splitting headache you have cursed me with. Yeah, I’m speaking directly to you guy who felt the bike lane was an appropriate path to attempt to bypass traffic in your jimmy-rigged pick up truck. Let’s forget for a moment how dangerous and overtly selfish it was, and instead focus on the real issue – How much faster did it actually make your commute? You got two car lengths ahead and then found yourself stuck behind a parked car where you sat, cursing the two guys you’d just passed for not letting you back in line. Bravo, genius.

But it wasn’t you alone who caused this massive, throbbing ache in my head. There was also the bank teller who clearly lacked counting skills, the woman who did unspeakable things in the ladies room and the guy in front of me who took days to order his lunch. And then there was Ms. G who insisted I view vacation photo after vacation photo of her falling down wearing a teeny bikini over her much-less-than-teeny frame, and my colleague who “popped in” my office for a supposedly quick question and then spent an hour complaining he had no time to get his work done. Try talking less and working more, buddy.

Remind me again why we can’t just off all these people? I mean, we kill deer for sport and abandoned puppies when the shelters get too full, so why not people who serve no other function than to annoy?

Too far? It’s the headache. It’s taking me to a very dark place.

Thankfully I have a wonderful husband at home who listens to my woes and four ridiculous babies who love to snuggle. They keep the homicidal tendencies to a minimum and ease any pains I come home with.

Well… them and the wine.

Dr. Em   


  1. You do have a wonderful husband. I've always liked him. The four babies, on the other hand, are sometimes difficult to understand when they eat trash, trap birds and pretend to be sick. Now I see what an important service they provide. I raise my glass to the four snugglers who keep your desire to be a spree killer at bay.

  2. You'd better keep them all with you wherever you go...because I'm telling you right now, I will not be taking care of anymore "but I swear, he jumped in front of my car" incidents. 7 is enough!

    The Weinator

  3. WeeWee... Um yeah, I love you, and trust me, I am well aware of your past... My babies shutter every time you visit. I swear they know. Mom, I raise my glass back. Thanks for finally understanding. BTW, they're all coming you way if we die... just saying.

    Dr. Em

    1. Wait. What? Me? I have no past! The Weinator has never had to bail me out of an anger induced "episode". And I don't know why your babies shudder when I visit. Chloe loved playing the drunken cheerleader for my YouTube video and I bet Remi is still bragging about the time I let him drink beer. Your babies look forward to our adventures!