I think I was born without a confrontation gene. Because ya know, when someone is rude to me, or hurts my feelings, or needlesly rips me a new one over some percieved slight I always ALWAYS smile, nod and try to diffuse the situation gracefully. Often while sacrificing my own feelings. Somehow, I just end up grinning and bearing it. And then fuming inside, until I get over it. Its my own fault. No one is making me be a doormat. I’m just really no good at saying “No. You don’t get it. You can’t talk to me that way. Go Fuck Yourself.” Most often I just don’t feel a big blowup is worth it. Except I’m the one that ends up feeling like poo. And that is not fair. At all.

I’m tired of it. I’m really really tired of smiling and nodding and trying to keep the peace. When the fuck did that become my responsibility? Last time I checked I only have two children. And they, little buggers, know not to mess with mama. As does my husband. I ain’t your mama, and I don’t have to be nice.

So look out. Thats all I have to say. This time bomb has a short fuse right now.