Tantrums and other sobering realities

A new day and a thin blanket of snow brings clarity to the woman in the Bell Jar. Did you hear that tapping last night? That was me, chiseling my way out with Betsey's shiv. I have these days where my fear turns me into a batshit crazy raving lunatic. Sometimes, I make idle threats about ramming my car into a telephone pole and blaming it on the rain, like in that horrible Milli Vanilli song. I just do that shit. It's like a grown up temper tantrum. I mean, I still feel like shit and I'm still going to die, sooner rather than later, but fuck it. My tears and childish protests aren't going to change anything about that.

Let's face it, the business of dying is Boring. So now I'm back to the real important business of my life, which is, of course, being irritated by stupid shit. Yesterday, I was driving home in the rain trying to find the perfect telephone pole to wrap my car around when I see one of those dumb ass Baby on Board signs tacked to the rear window of the car in front of me. I've talked about Baby on Board signs already. I don't need to go into why I hate them or why you should hate them (and you really, really should). But it's like my worst fears are being realized on all levels. A cancer scare and now baby on board signs are back in action. What next, God? Bring it on.