The perfect way to ensure that I’ll be a raging bitch for the rest of the day? Bring home a plain ol’ regular stupid poopoo peepee latte instead of the GINGERBREAD LATTE I asked for. To be fair, I really don’t have a right to be pissed at “the person” who went out at 6am to get me the coffee, (I should be pissed at the maker of the coffee, right?) However, if they didn’t write your order on the cup, like they’re SUPPOSED to do, shouldn’t you check to make sure they didn’t screw up and that they made the coffee you ordered? But “the person” who went to get my coffee didn’t check, leaving me no choice but to dramatically rip the lid off, pour the STUPID DRINK down the drain while crying “A GINGERBREAD LATTE HAS WHIPPED CREAM AND CINNAMON ON TOP! WHY DIDN’T YOU CHECK BEFORE YOU LEFT? WHHHHHHYYYYYY?”
Another way to resurrect my Inner Bitch? Call my house at 6:30 in the morning, just after I FINALLY got my baby to fall asleep after being since 3:30am to ask me if “I just called your house.”
No, I didn’t just call your house and if you had caller id, you’d know that. (But seriously? When was the last time I called ANYONE at 6:30 in the morning? Let me think… NEVER! That’s when, so why in the hell would you assume it was ME calling and not one of the gossipers from your church?)
Damn, I’ve been kind of assholey lately, huh?
It’s not my fault! IT’S BUSH’S FAULT!