Boondock Ramblings

Some days I’m just perfectly lovely.

I’m the girl you’d want to bring home to your mother, as a friend, a girlfriend, a wife, wha’eva’.

Other days, like today, I’m a crazy, snotty, witch.

I have no idea why.

A lot of people know me in this small town. They read my columns and think I’m a good-all-the-time-Christian-woman. I am a Christian woman. I am not good all the time. And when I’m not good it is usually in front of someone who will probably tell everyone they know how I was bad — when, what, where and why. But really, they can’t tell the why, because not even I know the why.

I picked my nieces up from school today. No matter where I parked I was told I couldn’t park there. Long story short, the last time I was told this was in chorus by my nieces, with their teacher standing a few yards away.

“Just get in the car!” I shouted.

I’m not sure what the teacher thought. I didn’t care. I sped away, called Sister-in-law and told her someone else would have to pick up the kids from now on. I was missing too much work when I did it. Not too mention for some bizarre reason it was stressing me out every time.

Half way down the road I burst into tears.

“What the heck is wrong with me?” I thought, feeling like a callous on the bottom of someone’s foot.

Sister-in-law asked if I was pregnant. The answer is no, but next week is that lovely “Time of the Month.” (And this is where Brother says “Aaah, man. Yuk. Hubby says, “Oh craaap.”)

You ever have these days? These days you just don’t know how to explain your mood and your tears and your perfect meanness — if there is such a word?