(Mi)dolled up
I am heavily tranquillized with Midol today, so I’m doing a better job than I was last week of just leaving well enough alone. (That is, I only think the word “die” in the presence of evil instead out outright SAYING it aloud — good girl! *pats self on back*.) But it got me to thinking about when two inner bitches brush against each other, and I’m hoping mine isn’t more of an “outie” than the other one.
I love how we all just grit our teeth and tolerate each other. And it gets me to thinking about how much somebody else’s inner bitch grates on my nerves — how I have a list of “this is why you suck.” And I wonder if the other inner bitch sees my inner bitch and has an equally long list of “why I hate (the Goddess).” Which, stupid bitch, hating on me isn’t going to get you anywhere in life, just like I know picturing your demise isn’t going to get me into heaven any faster.
I don’t know. I know my shit don’t stink — I don’t expect that absolutely everyone should be in love with me at all times. (Most times, but not ALL.) But do others ever stop to think, as I do, what they could do to be less grating and annoying? Do they ever stop to check themselves and scale back on the outer bitch in case they’re astrally projecting it a little too hard? And do they ever think, “Wow, Goddess is a really nice person, and if her gentle graciousness thinks I am a horrid whore, then I must REALLY be a stankin’ hoo-ha”?
I don’t know. I guess I have had enough people treat me like a doormat that I hiss and growl and attack at the first signs of it. Goddess don’t play that — go piss on someone else’s hydrant; this one’s taken. Don’t make me gnaw through this leash and choke you with it!
OK, judging from this entry, perhaps dinner should be a Midol sandwich. … 😉