Every morning when I wake up, I tell myself: "I am not going to feel stabby today. NO MATTER WHAT. Not even a little bit, Randine. And I'm serious this time. You're not going to pull that shit you did yesterday."
Don't look at me like that. Everyone talks to themselves sometimes, I think.
"Choose Your Attitude" I say, thinking of this work- what do they call it- morale, I think- thing that we had to watch at work where people threw fish at each other and laughed about it and a bunch of weird shit like that.
But the stabiness comes, anyways.
Geoff and I have this ongoing feud between jasmine rice and sticky rice.
I prefer jasmine rice, and being the buyer and preparer of the food- jasmine rice it is in our house.
Geoff always sulks about this.
Tonight we sat down to eat, he scooped the rice on his plate with a heavy sigh, as though burdened by this hardship.
"Look." I said, dropping my fork with a loud clank. "If you don't like the rice, don't fricking eat it."
"I didn't even say anything about the rice. I was just breathing."
And suddenly I'm stabby again. I'm looking at my fork and thinking about making it into a shank. Or better yet- I could just use that steak knife right beside it.
And then I go on my Facebook page and I see someones status update:
"I would rather go to jail for spanking my kids than see them go to jail because I didn't."
Three people "liked" this status.
But. First of all: as if you're going to go to jail for spanking your kid. You're not getting any sympathy from me on this.
And secondly, don't take the moral high ground on me because I'm not a spanker. I doubt, highly doubt, that my children are going to end up jail because I didn't spank them.
In fact, I'm pretty sure that if you go to a prison right now- any prison- and asked any random inmate in there what caused them to become criminals, "Too much coddling from my parents" would not be the first thing out of their mouths.
In fact, I think that's just about the last thing they might way.
So SHUT IT with your self righteous status updates.
I don't freaking need it.
But now I know why I'm so stabby.
I read on a website- very legit I'm sure- that Vitamin D deficiency is basically the root of all evil.
Married to Mel Gibson?
So I'm going to start on Vitamin D, and see if I feel less stabby in a week.
And to test my hypothesis, I'm going to self administer a stabby scale, which I created just now in my head, which has basically no psychological validity at all whatsoever, but I think it will be a good pre test post test measure.
How stabby do you feel on a scale of 1-10: 10
What are you wearing right now: Pyjamas
Pink or purple: Pink
Favorite Pizza Topping: Cheese
The first word that comes to mind when I say knife: stab
Yellow or orange: neither
Was Lassie good, or evil: Evil. That's why they shot him.
OK. So now we wait. I'll start taking the Vitamin D and let you know in a week if I'm less stabby.
In the meantime, do not stop by, unless you want to get stabbed. We can just chat online, it's better that way for both of us: less stabbing for you, and I can stay in my pyjamas, and I don't have to clean my kitchen. Not that I would anyways. I would just steer you clear of the kitchen.
My poor,dear aunty decided to pay me a visit this weekend past. I wasn't in a very good mood. The kids had been in and out for about a solid hour, always leaving the door wide open. The dog had run away about eleven times. Alex had woken up from his nap about three times.
"Stop coming in and out," I told them firmly, shutting the door behind them and locking it.
Three seconds later. Ding Dong.
"I told you to stay out!" I said as I flung the door open.
And there stood my dear old aunty with a sheepish look on her face and pink present in her hand.
"Sorry, I guess I should have called first."
I kind of felt like an asshole about that.
Anyways. Blame it on the Vitamin D.
I'll let you know how it goes.