the anger

That's right, the anger is upon me. The anger is directed at Spanish egg sandwiches and my right sacroiliac joint (or the ass joint as I like to call it). Unfortunately, since being angry at these two inanimate objects doesn't do much towards alleviating the anger, the anger has been spilling over.

This weekend Jeremy bore the brunt of the anger. I mean how fucking dare he remind me that I shouldn't leave wooden utensils in standing water? Who the fuck does he think he is? Senor Wooden Spoon the king of kitchen utensils? Asshole.

So this morning when I got into work I made the following announcement:

Hey everyone, I've been in a lot of pain over the weekend and I still am and that makes me sort of short tempered and pissy so if I'm an asshole, I'm sorry in advance.

Hopefully this will help avoid any hurt feelings.


The anger has also been misdirected at the following:

1. the stairs
2. the bed
3. my mobile phone
4. the hot water bottle
5. the sofa
6. my knees
7. the sink
8. the television
9. the boiler
10. every chair in the world
11. the bathroom for being so goddamn far away
12. the fucking everything

Hopefully I'll get an appt in with the rheumatologist this week and she'll have some idea why the pain has come back and I will be able to direct the anger more productively and stop saying fuck so much.