When Good Women Get Pissy (Again)

You know how you spend your whole adult life trying to be cool-headed and thoughtful and role-model-y for your kids? You might be all angelfishy in the tanky-poo, but then something royally hinky happens to screw up your day, like your lawyer forgets you exist and your case languishes in some dusty file room, and you feel landlocked cuz you wanna swim with the sharks, or better still, be the shark. Uh-oh.

Yeah, suddenly you're transformed. You spit the serenity prayer. You burst your spongy stress ball. You gnash on cheery rainbows. You roll up your sleeves and dare your foe to "Bring it." You huff and puff and lather yourself into a white-hot frenzy that can only be cured by excoriating your victim with a serrated-edged tongue, after which you must shove your overheated body into the freezer. Naked.

Family Safety Hint: During this time? Do not approach your supreme leader. She must cool down, and you cannot facilitate this process with tepid apologies. Plus, she wants to revel in her righteous indignation because it's liberating and empowering and all kinds of orgasmic to be the firing squad for a change. But because she's not normally a sprayer of evil, she is out of practice and you will likely get some on you. Run.

Losing it is not a moment that the kind-hearted, compassionate woman is going to feel proud about afterward. But she will damn-well feel sensational after clearing her head of the nice-girl clutter, the pretentious civility, and the ridiculosity of trying to look at asshattery from someone else's viewpoint. Allow her space. And ice cream. Amen.

You probably didn't know that storming and stomping around is healthy, but the pissy woman gets all aerobic in the venting process. Plus, she will get a blog post out of it. And if a man is involved, he may get take-it-out-on-you sex. Not making promises, but there's anecdotal evidence that it's happened at least once in recorded history. Google.

Since I live alone, there are no witnesses to any gratifying tirades. So if nobody within 10,000 square feet hears me bitch, did it really happen? Crap.

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In Dallas this week workin' for the man, and life has me by the cojones (yes, I have some). Hope you enjoyed this very popular post from the past. 
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