Q is for Quit Bugging Me!!

In keeping with January's Resolution #6 – Say bad things about Q only on my blog and not to people in real life – today’s post is devoted to saying bad things about Q. I need to get it all out before I say it inappropriately in real life. I need to vent so you may want to stand back and perhaps shield your eyes.

Oh Q, how do I loathe you? There are oh so very many ways. Chief among them is that it bugs the heck out of me just how much you bug me. Yes, I know that is more about me than you, but I’m mad at you, this is my tantrum, and I’ll find a way to blame you for everything from unrest in Gaza to global warming. Q, you are my target du jour so just stand there and take it like the uber bitch that I claim you to be.

Q, I hate your stupid bleached blond hair. Do you really think it looks good that way? No, it looks way over processed. Please find a way to be kinder to your hair. Oh, and you might try brushing it occasionally. Just a thought. . .

Q, you are not smarter than me. You do not know more than I do about certain topics like, say, childrearing. You have that arrogant attitude only the childless possess. Get over yourself. You do NOT know better how to parent N than I do, and besides that you are NOT his parent. So SHUT UP and let me and W deal with N, ‘kay?

Q, you may be W’s girlfriend, but you and I are not ever going to be friends. I will be polite and tactful in my dealings with you, but I will not ever have any desire to be your friend. You are not the type person I generally befriend anyway even if we met under different circumstances so beyond the pleasantries of a hello and how are you let’s just can the chit chat, shall we?

Q, why did you rent a house when you never stay there? Your house has become the most expensive dog house in the world as only the dog lives there from what I can tell. You are always at W’s apartment. WTF?!? Don’t you think your dog is lonely with you only dropping by for a short while once or twice a day? There is nothing more to say here but to repeat WTF?!?

Q, when we are at church stay away from me. It’s a small church but not so small that you can’t find others to talk to during coffee hour. You do not need to seek me out to make a point of talking to me. Just go your way, and I’ll go mine. A pleasant smile and nod hello would suffice if we happen to cross paths. I am not there to talk to you. I am there to be with my church family, a family I might add in which I do not include you except as perhaps that crazy distant cousin that keeps showing up at family functions making people uncomfortable.

Q, do not cross me. You have not seen what Taurus the Bull can be like when angered. You do not want to see it. Trust me. When I start to get hot, back the fuck off, particularly if you want to live to see another day. I can tell by looking at you that if I need to I can take you down sister. Don’t make me do it.

Q, so what’s with your job being in jeopardy already? You work for a nursing home, not a place well known for speedy and efficient employees, and yet you’ve already been told just a few weeks in that if you don’t speed up you’ll be canned. Just how slowly are you moving? Good grief woman, get your act together.

Q, and what’s with being W’s live in girlfriend but not taking care of him when he’s hurt? Oh well, at least in this case he’s proved that what goes around comes around. I guess he’s just getting payback for the way he didn’t care for me when I needed him.

And now Q just a little tip here. You are really starting to get on W’s nerves. I’ve noticed it. N just told me this morning that he noticed W being annoyed with you a lot lately. N also told me (completely surprised me at his astute observation BTW) the other day that he thinks you only want a boyfriend because you don’t have a car and need someone to drive you around town. If a 10-year-old can see it, then perhaps it won’t be long before W sees it too. If you want to continue this relationship with W you might just try being a little less transparent and a little less annoying. Just sayin’. . .

Okay, I feel better. Sometimes a girl just has to have a little bitchstorm.

Carry on.
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Updated: 4:30 p.m.

Just got off the phone with W. He called with a question about N’s schedule. Somehow the conversation moved in a direction that led him to mention that he’s trying to help Q get a job again. I politely inquired about the nursing home job. Apparently she was fired on her sixth day on the job. This would’ve been well before Christmas. I knew he mentioned soon after she started that her job was in jeopardy but had no idea she’d been canned. . . after only SIX days for (in W’s words) “being slower than molasses.” It was all I could do to maintain enough composure to politely express that I was sorry to hear she was having such troubles before ringing off.

Now I am sitting here smirking and feeling a perverse sense of pleasure at others’ pain. If I wasn’t at work I’d likely be laughing right out loud and perhaps doing a little dance around the room. Yes the Dark Side is strong within me today.