So, I don't even know what I did. I was just fazing out and following the guy in front of me, and when I pulled into the turn lane to head the rest of the way home, said guy in front of me slammed on his brakes, crawled, and then flipped me off as I passed his car. So while I tried to wrap my head around what offense I had committed against him as I sat at the red light waiting to turn left, the fucker did it again when he drove by me as his light turned green!
That is entering WTF?????? territory. I drove home in a completely confused daze. As far as I was aware, I wasn't tailgating the son of a bitch, so what was his problem? It really upset me to a terrible degree, probably more than it needed to, so I got Zoey down for the rest of her nap, went upstairs, hid in the bathroom, and had a good cry. I felt marginally better for having done so, but the fact is that small things like this often open up the wounds of things past. I don't think I ever truly heal from things, however small. Any time I find myself in a vulnerable state, if even a tiny little thing upsets me, everything else that I successfully shoved into the box in the back of my mind reserved for such things comes flying to the fore. Pathetic. Still, that's just the way I am, I guess.
Point being, I actually thought about that nasty old woman at Aldi, something I hadn't thought about since that little sonnet of love transpired. I suppose it boils down to the fact that I don't understand rude behavior. I try, even when I am in a spittingly foul mood, to be polite and cheerful with others, to smile when I don't feel like it, and to make small talk with cashiers/waiters/so on. And I'm sorry if this makes me sound like I'm playing the victim or whatever, but I have a lot of stressors at present, and I still do all of the above. No need to drag others down just because I'm cheesed at life, and honestly, I find I get cheered up when I cheer others up first. So why does everybody think it to be their prerogative to act like total a-holes? I'm sorry they're freaking out, but it does not give them the right to shit on people. The sad, sorry truth is that few care if they're having a bad day, so get the fuck over it.
Here's another thing. I don't care if a person mutters swear words or gets mad behind the wheel, but it's sick to visibly express road rage. Get over yourself, seriously. Plus, it's dangerous--a road rager could upset another driver enough, and get upset enough him/herself, to cause accidents. What a joke. Calm down.
I missed Brian so much at the Lebanese Festival. These things are not nearly as fun when you're with your baby alone, surrounded by families or single moms with companions. I had fun with Zoey, sure, but... I think I'll just stick to our old spot at the Arboretum from now on. The past few weeks since my mom's had her surgery, I've been doing some of the cleaning and the cooking, and I have to be honest. I love this routine. I get up, drink my coffee, get Zoey her breakfast, and take her to the park. Then I get her home for her lunch and nap, and while she does that, I do my writing until she gets up. Then I take her either for a walk, or to the store if we need dinner supplies, or to Blockbuster if my last rentals have all been viewed, and then we go home, I get some cleaning done, and then I listen to music and make dinner while she watches E.T. or Coraline. Then it's to the bath and to bed with Zo, and to the work out and movie for me. It's fun, it's relatively stress-free, it's everything I wanted from being a mom. There is only one problem.
I no longer have a husband or my own home. And I miss Brian more than anything. Plus, I have to find a real job--a career job. I just can't do bitchwork anymore. Pardon me my elitism, but I just feel like I, myself, am capable of something better. But it's been so hard, there's little available for someone with just a crappy little BFA, and I don't even know where to look. Neither have I done anything outstanding to make my resume special or more appealing to potential employers. Meanwhile, Sycamore has me on hiatus, I have more bills than I know what to do with, and I can't afford to be slow about finding a career-oriented job just now. On top of that, my car is now a cube in the junkyard, meaning, obviously, that I need to somehow procure a new car with my abysmal credit and lack of money. Lord.
Point being, I am just NOT where I would like to be in my life at present. I miss, miss, MISS Brian like there's no tomorrow, just to add a little cherry to the proverbial sundae.
Did I mention that I miss Brian a lot?
Anyway, Zoey's up, so I am going to go retrieve her and take her for a walk. Bies, all.
I took Zoey to the Lebanese Festival today, and yes, we had a semi-decent time. However, Zoey's not big enough to ride the rides or dance with the bellydancers on stage by herself (and I sure as heck wasn't going up there), so there was only so much we could do. I got her a carved stone cat, though, that she fell head over heels for, so that was a good thing, and she really got fixated on the dancers and liked the music, so that was good, too. I felt awful that I couldn't let her out of her stroller to let her dance to the music because she essentially tried to take off. Heart attack territory for Ye Olde Mom. She wailed and kicked and threw a fit when I caught her and tried to stick her back in the stroller, which was heartily embarrassing because people came to the festival to listen to some Lebanese music and watch some Lebanese dance, not listen to/watch a baby throwing a fit. Once I got her into the car, though, she changed her tune and I headed to the Arboretum. She fell asleep before we got there, so I decided to just take her home and get her in her crib.