Not That It Matters…

I often wonder at what point I became an intolerable whiner. I have recognized my tendencies for a long time, and while I try to change, it seems to be ingrained behavior. I am easily irritated and completely impatient with stupidity, which means I’m irritated a LOT. Little things really get under my skin. It makes me an intolerable human, an unlovable, bitter, semi-old spinster.

Note to Redbird: The annoy-a-tron has arrived and will be pressed into service Tuesday afternoon. Over.

Ahem. Take today, for instance. Our worship team is made up of a bunch of amateurs, as most are. We have 3 guitar players, one of which has pretty good lead skills, and one who does really great rhythm. The other one is there mainly for his own entertainment. Lead guy plays wrong chords REALLY LOUDLY instead of doing what he does best, and his rhythm throws me off. Y’all, I’m not braggin’, but that’s hard to do. You really have to be a Hoover of a player to mess me up, is all I’m sayin’.

The funny part of THAT is he can’t stand it when entertainment guy does something wrong. Those logs, they be mighty blindin’.

After church I asked one of the members to help me with an issue concerning the mortgage I’m about to shoulder. She could have handled the matter with a one-sentence letter, but she refused to consider it until I take her copies of my tax returns for the last two years. That ain’t happenin’. Now I have to find someone who will write that one sentence on company letterhead without making me jump through hoops my BANK isn’t even asking for.

I did invite Karma to the party, but durned if I’m lettin’ her in. Harumph.

Last night I was going to town for dinner. It was drizzling slightly, and I was behind 2 pickup trucks going below the speed limit. I couldn’t get around them because of oncoming traffic, so when I was able to make my move, the guy in front got his panties in a wad. He paced me. I was doing almost 80 by the time I forced my way over in front of him, and he stayed on my bumper the rest of the way to town. I couldn’t see his headlights, he was so close. Since I don’t really have time to deal with repairs to the truck, I decided against tapping the brakes and instead took my foot off the gas. I got down to 50 and stayed there till he turned off. People shoot each other for less than that in other towns. I swear, if this had happened two weeks from now, I would have made him hit me. Jerk.

Seems like such a small thing, but stuff like that totally cracks my eggs.

What calms me down is the feeling of warm fur up against my legs, the rumble of a tiny little motor on my chest. (Get your mind outta the gutter, people. I’m talkin’ kittens.) The babies’ purrsonalities are really showing now. Lewis the Black is the mighty Nimrod. He has replaced Spooky as the hunter, slayer of moving things and depositor of carcasses on the carpet. He had a ball today with a little rain frog, but yesterday it was lizards, and the day before was another frog. They’re already dead by the time they get to me, so I don’t feel terribly guilty letting him play. It’s so cute to hear him growl at his siblings when they get too close. Leo the Fluffball eventually grabbed it and played with it between my feet for a while. He’s living up to his name, wrestling everybody to the carpet and declaring his mighty awesomeness.

Now that their mom isn’t around, they’ve turned to me. They pile up on me while I’m watching tv, and I have to forgive the knocked-over stuff around when I look at those angelic little faces sleeping. I am SOO wrapped.

Man. I could use a double cuppa Earl Grey, hot.

Later!