The Anger Sharks are Swimming in My Head.
Le sigh… I was hoping I would be over this, since it happened three days ago, but apparently I have trouble letting go. Not exactly shocking news to anyone who knows me.
I’ve been reading a few articles lately about how telling someone about something that is upsetting you actually doesn’t make you feel better because you hold on to the negative thoughts and feelings instead of just letting them go. Well, I find that when I don’t tell someone when something is bothering me, it builds up in me like something fermenting and rotting until it bursts from the container of me and spills all over the unfortunate soul closest to me. That’s not fun for anyone.
So here’s a Pro Tip for everyone with friends… don’t call your buddy to complain about how what someone said to you really hurt your feelings and was totally out of bounds and then IMMEDIATELY insult your friend that you turned to for comfort!!
I have a friend who is OBSESSED with her husband. He’s the smartest, greatest man that was ever gifted to the earth by God. Never mind the fact that he can’t keep a job. That’s everyone else’s fault. Never mind the fact that he puts her down all the time. That’s just because women are legitimately less intelligent than men. (I get ill thinking about how she believed that at one point.) Never mind all the reasons he’s actually one of the biggest (truly, he’s quite large) stereotypes of white trash out there.
Apparently, the fact that I have a boyfriend who is attractive and cares enough to keep himself in relatively good shape means that he’s a tool. Yes, this friend called to complain that her mother-in-law had absolutely no right to bitch about the state of her house and tell her that she shouldn’t be pregnant and then immediately decided that she’d let me know her illustrious husband has deemed Mike a tool because he’s attractive and works out. Obviously, my friend agrees with her husband and Mike is clearly a tool. Oh, don’t worry, I shouldn’t be offended, her husband was totally a tool back in high school before he hurt his back. Big, giant eye roll on my part.
Arrrrrrgh, this is the dumbest post ever, but I’m still so annoyed. I don’t even know why I’m so offended. I think what made it worse was that five minutes later, she telling me that if I choose to marry this guy, she’s my maid of honor. When I said that I was probably going to make one of my sisters the maid of honor if my life went in that direction, she got made and told me that I had promised her the maid of honor spot. No. Just… no.
I’m sorry, I promise the next post will be better. It’ll probably be Part Two of the story of how Mike and I got together. Or something about how adorable my dogs are. Or an embarrassing story about toilets. I don’t know. Anything would be better.