Wild side

I am in such a damn pissy mood that I just may be on the verge of homicidal. And no I am not pmsing, but thanks jerkoff.

I got a call from my sons school at around 9am. They said he was stung by a bee on the playground before school started. And he was telling them how woosie he was feeling and blah,blah blah.....They ask me to come up and check him over. I go there, he is laying on a bed in the nurses office, when I peak in he is laying with his eyes wide open...When he "sees" me coming he quickly closes his eyes and goes all limp.

The office lady shows me where the sting took place. On the top of his damn head. Its red, its a tad bloody, but nothing to leave school for. I tell him he will be fine and that he indeed is not going to die, nor come home...Case closed.

It is just one of those days where you wake up pissed off. I have a splitting headache, and I am sure I need some good pain killers. If not to cure my headache, to cure my mother trucking mood.

Then Boo Bee craps her pants and I ask her " why didn't u go to the potty?"...This is always her response..

" momma, I sorry, I sorry momma I not a bad girl"

Yes...Yes you are a bad girl...Right now you don't know how close you are to me ripping your crapper out of your tiny body.

I have a headache, please somebody shoot me...Between the eyes preferably...

I am tired of things. All things. I am tired of my phone ringing, I am tired of these damn kids in the hood just opening my damn door and walking in...I am tired of these snot ass kids asking me why the bees cant play..I am tired of having to look at odd looking girl, and I am tired of my Blondie Bee roaming the hood without asking me to leave . She thinks she can just go wherever the hell she wants. Her lil as* is grounded right now...She slams her door, tells me how much she hates me, and that she will never speak to me again...I say..You promise?

Then not more then 5 minutes later she comes out asking for food. No food girl, best you get your lil blonde rear end back to your room before I nail the door shut.

Then she is all mad because before school I asked if she wanted hot or cold lunch. I told her they were having spaghetti for lunch at school, and she said she wanted that. One less lunch I have to make, I am happy. I stuff her lunch money in her backpack and send her on her way.

After she is grounded to her room and after I tell her she can not have any food till dinner, she comes out with a sassy attitude to tell me that she in fact did not have spaghetti for lunch, rather they had French toast, and that I must not be able to read a menu and.....blah blah blah...And that I know she likes pancakes NOT French toast..I stopped listening for a while not sure what else she spewed out of her tiny mouth.

I then looked at her menu, it indeed did say French toast, it was my sons menu that had spaghetti...Why do they have separate items?..I hate this state, I hate this town and I hate the school system..

Then my son brings home a note saying he needs 3 more damn notebooks plus I need to pay 3 bucks for some kind of something....I don't know..I stopped reading after it said I needed to give them money. I spent 100 bucks on school supplies...I am not spending anymore money....Man I hate people .....Pretty soon they are gonna ask for rent money for the space the kids are taking up in the school, and wanting lot rent for their desk, and start charging everytime these kids flush the crappers at school.

This whole episode today got me thinking. Well not just this episode but since I felt my demise was going to be shortly. I have realized I have no real passion for anything. I mean when people say their kids are their passion they are bloody fools, or liars. If your kids are your passion then your a child molester or a damn idiot. Kids should be your life, you should feel passion about them, wanting them to be good and mold them into good people...which I am not doing anymore, I give up...

So where and what is my passion? I dunno anymore..and I am too damn tired and lazy to hunt for it.

Then you hear how that croc guy died doing what he loved doing,and that he would be happy he died that way,...blah blah blah...I don't think anyone really ever wants to die, and anyway you do die would not make one happy. Rather I would think it would piss you off.

So then I realized if I were to die what would I want to be doing? What am I passionate about? What do I love doing?

Sleeping?....Sure..I could die in my sleep..I would just think its all a big damn dream..

Eating?..Sure I could choke to death on something..

Blogging? Sure, I could fall off my chair, and hit my head on the floor and die of an emblism....Or whathaveu

Walking? Yup, I could be chased by a bear or trip and fall and drown in the lake..

There are any number of ways I could die. I cant say any of those things would make me happy to die doing. I mean is there really such a thing as being happy to die doing something? It makes no sense to me. I guess I will be bloody pissed off to die, no matter what the hell I am doing.

I would love to live long enough to see my kids be bailed out of jail for the first time, or to get their GED, or whatever...

I just have this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I am not doing something I should be doing..Like I am missing out on something...I don't know what..I cant explain it...Maybe its an ulcer, or hell stomach cancer.

Damn if that odd looking girl opens my mother fuc*ing door one more time while I am typing this I am gonna go beat her damn head with a bat..

maybe it would gain a better shape that way....Damn..See..I am in a pissy damn mood.

Anyway, where the hell was I?

I don't know..It doesn't even matter anyway..I am done...I have nothing worth while to say other then I am pissed and who really fuc*ing cares anyway?

And damn now I am gonna go nail Blondie Bees window shut because I can hear her chatting it up with the kids outside....Damn...

I need vodka. I need pain killers. And I guess I need Prozac.

Help me.....

Bee Real....Or die trying.