The other morning at seven a.m., I had a meltdown in the driveway. Afterwards, images of my mother screaming at my dad in the front yard when I was little flashed in my head like sugar covered plums on Christmas.
My morning had started out hectic as usual. I woke up at five a.m. and went to the gym. After running the treadmill for an hour I got home by six and walked the dogs. I rushed my shower reducing my usual fifteen minute shower down to five minutes and blow dried and straightened my hair. I looked at the clock and hissed when I saw that it was already seven. Parking has been horrible this last week so in order to get a "free" county space, I must be in the parking lot by 7:45 a.m. It usually takes me about twenty five minutes to get to work so I was cutting it close.
I threw on my clothes and ran down the stairs. I watered and fed the dogs and grabbed my keys and jumped in my car. 7:15. I had just enough time.
When I looked to my right, I saw my neighbor's trash cans on the curb. Fuck. Wednesday is trash day.
I ran back in the house, pushed the button to open the garage door and pulled the trash cans to the curb one by one cussing under my breath.
When I got back to my car, Adrian was sitting in his car warming it up. He doesn't have to be at the dental office in Hesperia until 9 a.m. on Wednesdays but he usually goes early and hangs out at Starbucks. How relaxing.
Double fuck. The garage door was still open and I lost my remote last week. I looked at Adrian sitting in his car and motioned toward the open garage door. No response. I turned off my car and looked at him. He shrugged.
"This is bullshit," I thought to myself as I slammed my car door and walked back into the house to close the garage door.
As I walked back outside Adrian was still sitting in his car and something inside of me snapped.
"Fuck, you need to help me more Adrian" I screamed like a possessed banshee and flipped Adrian off not once but twice.
I pulled away tires screeching and saw my next door neighbor and his kids standing by their front door.
On my drive to work, I called Adrian on my speaker phone. "What is wrong with you?" he said in a perplexed voice. He had no clue.
I feel like I do everything. And, instead of just letting it go, i.e. letting the trash sit in the garage for two weeks, I push myself to get it all done and then bitch about it.
I know screaming isn't productive, but sometimes I feel like us shrews get a bad rap. When people nag others it is because shit isn't getting done.
And I get shit done.
So fuck it, this shrew won't be tamed, although I will try and confine her to the interior of the house from now on.