Top 10 Things That Make Me Act Really Super Fucking Bitchy

 Okay it's actually more than ten things:

• doing the dishes
• doing any fucking housework
• doing so much fucking housework my back is breaking and it's still a fucking mess / nothing is perfect or even halfway-presentable and I still feel like a piece of shit falling further and further behind
• when people devalue the WORK of housekeeping and the people who do it
• doing the dishes and housework and getting absolutely no recognition for the amount of time, care and effort put into it
• HAVING PMS
• doing the work of femme presentation hair makeup skincare nails shaving BULLSHIT
• NOT doing the work of presentation and feeling all of that power slipping away and feeling badly about myself for choosing to look like an angry dwarven ogre
• not having enough money to take care of my skin hair nails
• when people devalue the WORK and HIGH COST of hair makeup skincare nails shaving BULLSHIT
• not being able to get the right kinds of drugs for cost-effective BREAKS from all of this overwhelming BULLSHIT
• how RICH PEOPLE AND LIARS can easily get all the good safer drugs, while poor and honest people cannot
• being condescended to be doctors, especially when they are younger than I am
• when I do the work and investment of stupid femme presentation and do not get to be a pillow queen and be properly dicked down and appropriately serviced whenever I want and however I want, completely escaping from all mundane chores and obligations like bills and housework and BULLSHIT, and having to be NICE about it
• being complimented on the wrong fucking things
• people with narrow simple-minded brainwashed mass-produced ideas of what is beautiful
• the lies I was made to believe about men that didn't pan out
• the indignity of still being poor on the cusp of 50 years old
• not being able to just SMASH MY CAR into other stupid cars driven by stupid stupid dumbass shithole motherfuckers
• cuntholes with fancy cars and blank faces and engines running idle in looooooong lines for their stupid fucking fancy coffees blocking the parking lot and making it extra dangerous and stressful (I'm going to start parking my ass in the fucking parking lot with a cardboard toll both blocking them from getting in line at the free-standing coffee-drug dispensary and they have to pay me to move you insensate fucks with your fucking expendable incomes)
• wanting to THROW THINGS and BREAK SHIT and SCREEAAAAM and not being able to safely do that without hurting or scaring anyone or paying some other horrible high price

AMAZING! I feel so much better after making this list. Not because I enjoyed practicing being angry through "catharsis", but I think because these are really only three or four or maybe half a dozen things that really bother me A LOT and a lot of them are pretty small potatoes with workarounds, and roots of energy I can dig up and replant elsewhere for a golden harvest of buttery-smooth yellow finn potatoes or clicks or magic wizard beans or something. Private(ish) bitching IS a release valve that provides a lot of clarity and helps me gain perspective. I feel really calm now. Even though I still have to do more dishes.

• even though I don't feel the connection, I suspect my difficult-to-repress bitch emotions go dark-hand-in-light-hand with the frequency with which I well up with tears or full-on CRY at the measliest things like that Siemens commercial on YouTube, episodes of Old Enough! (how smart and hard-trying and joyful and tenacious and energetic kids are, and how much learning HURTS sometimes, and how many people really are there watching and waiting and ready to help and somehow most of the time when we run into the street we DON'T get hit by cars), huge throngs of people on a field, in a stadium, at home in front of their TVs, all around the country witnessing and being stunned and scared by seeing a perfectly healthy person  AN ATHLETE collapse and stay down with a stopped-heart --- all of these people/us focusing on one person and wanting them to not be dead, to jump up again and be okay. The purity of love for a stranger. The way that none of it makes sense and we don't know how to harness it to save ourselves but when you just light up the good parts we are all connected and pulsing with life inside it and full of whatever is worth it.