Cranky Pants

I am usually a very cheery person. Really! But I've noticed recently that I've been a bit cranky. I apologize to the victims of my crankiness. Sorry I snapped at you. I don't know what it is. Maybe that I've been super busy at work or that it's the holidays (ba humbug). Or that people are just pissing me off!

Okay, it's really me. After turning 31, I've become a cranky old lady. Ya know, like the ones who shake their fists at the younguns, yelling unnecessarily loudly and frequently. It's true. I've been sitting out on my porch (screw the snow) and screaming "You crazy kids. Get off my lawn!" to everyone who passes. I get a lot of confused looks, and then I give them my own look that says "I will eff you up!"

I was never a patient person. Along with my youth, I am losing the little patience I have left. Things that used to mildly irritate me, now extremely irritate me.

Like if you want me to do something, you don't need to tell me a hundred times. I know! I heard you the first 99 times.

I'm happy to help you. But I am NOT going to do everything for you. You gotta help yourself. "Help me help you! Help me help you!"

I realize you like to hear the sound of your own voice. But frankly, I don't. So shut the eff up!

See...I told you I was cranky. In the spirit of Christmas and as a resolution for the new year, I promise I will try to improve my disposition. I will try to remember that patience is a virtue. I will hold my tongue even though I really really want to say something. I will not be violent despite a growing need to hurt someone. Basically, I will shut myself in my house and never leave. You'll thank me later.

P.S. My name Tara means "crabby rock." That explains a lot.