Don't look now, it's SuperBitch!

I had an epiphany today: I am one ruthless bitch. I'm using the negativity my mother exudes and has handed down to me (nature vs. nurture?) and combining it with my own personal shot of unrelenting spite. It's the way I talk and the way I write. Although I'm not sure which came first, the bitch-speak or the bitch-write, they, being my more successful personality, have taken over. It may have began when I started writing more regularly. No. It began at birth, with my mother being who she is, I was bound for this dirty road of negativity. But it definitely flourished when I started finding humor in the ridiculous circumstances I plunge myself into. Changing bad to good with humor isn't a bad thing, until it just turns to bitching.

That's where I'm at. It's not necessarily a writer's funk, it's a living funk. There's some crap going on at work that I'm letting get to me, and between that and a few other normal (but crappy all the same) life experiences, I've become this raging she-monster.

So last week I stepped back and pondered myself from a few feet away. Not liking anything I saw, I decided that I would just "turn off" this bad attitude, or I will get positively nowhere in life. The next day, the very first case of my day, I had a run-in with my least-most favorite surgeon, who's always trying to dupe me with his shifty insurance-fraud antics. Not unlike any other time, he completely screwed us, and my "no bitch" flip went right out the window. I proceeded to hand his ass to him on a plate. On the plus side, I did take a moment before doing it, stating that I had planned on not being a bitch anymore, but was unable to keep the promise to myself due to extenuating circumstances.

Then the flood came, and now I'm currently on indefinite "time-out". Then today, as I talked to my bitchiest of friends (who I always considered bitchier than myself), she confessed to me that I am almost an intolerable grouch. It wasn't as much the conversation that took me aback as it was her being the one to tell me about it.

So since I'm awesome at self analysis and criticism, I sat down and started my own personal little therapy session with myself.

I haven't been sleeping well, I can't remember the last good sleep I got. My typical night is dropping whatever pills I haven't taken recently (to keep them working), pass out if I'm lucky by 1, then wake up again at 4 when the pills have worn off, and I'm wide awake till work.

Next off, I've started having these strange little anxiety attacks. Not heart-pouding-tearing-the-wallpaper-off attacks, just antsy-not-sure-what's-going-on-but-something's-not-right-and-it-won't-get-right-no-matter-what-I-eat attacks.

I've been snacking like crazy. I've developed a chin full o' zits, and I'm waiting to gain all my weight back since the surgery 'cause I can't go a day without lemonheads. As a matter of fact, I'm gonna go get some right now. BRB.

And I'm at my ADHD funk at work. Those of you who know me personally, know that I can't stand anything in my life to be "regular" for anymore than approximately 3 months. It's a byproduct of my attention deficit syndrome I haven't shaken yet. Since 3 months is basically the length of time I've been back to work since my surgery, I'm dying for another major surgery or catastophy to occur. (Which is a whole different therapy session that I'll leave to the pros.) So of course, now I've decided that it is the time to, 1) pursue my bachellors degree, beginning this month, 2) get my surgical nursing certification (scheduled to take the test by October), and 3) study for RNFA, surgical assisting. If I complete all that, I will then have 4 sets of letters after my name by next year. Sarah, RN, BSN, CNOR, RNFA. It all adds up to about a $.50/an hour raise. Which actually sucks. But there I go again!

I can't think of anything that could be silently gnawing on my crazy strings in my head, though. Maybe it's just boredom. My kids being home from school is making me nuts. Because right when I thought I was free of them during the day, the superintendent moved back school start a week due to the flood. So I'll blame it on my ADHD funk, which may also be known as Bipolar Disorder. But I'm pretty proud of myself for discovering a new mental disorder in myself so I'm just gonna keep calling it ADHD funk.

You may think I'm displacing blame to avoid responsibility. Maybe I'm just a bitch with no hope of redemption. But I'm honestly trying to get down to the nitty-gritty to fix myself. Maybe I need ritalin. Maybe I'll be alright once I start killing myself with my accreditations. Or maybe I need to construct something. I seem to be good at willing drama to come into my life. I don't like any of those answers though, so I think I may take on some councelling. It seems to help just to talk to someone sometimes, and I think I need validation about certain things. And sleep. I need deep sleep- with no dreaming, and where you wake up completely refreshed and renewed.

Is it sad when you look to reality television for role models? Especially "The Girls Next Door"? I want to be hot and happy. They're sharing the same penis with 2 other girls and you don't even hear a "bitch that's my man!". Maybe the problem is that I'm too cerebral to be happy. I definitely think waaay too much. It's the liberal in me. I can't help it. Maybe I'll just get my boobs done.

HOLY SHIT! I JUST HAD MY SECOND EPIPHANY! I THINK I'M TURNING REPUBLICAN! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! A bitchy republican snob! I think I'd rather be crazy. At least there's a pill for that. (Disclaimer: I like some republicans, just not the bitchy snobby ones, so no offense. Unless you're bitchy and snobby.)

Thus, for at least as long as it takes for the next thing to piss me off, I am going to focus all my energy on the positive. Now's a great time to put myself into some humanitarian work, with the flood and all. Although I don't want to wind up being bitch-slapped by some needy flood person for saying the wrong thing. Maybe I need some fixing first.

Alright, I think it's time to go. "The Girls" are on. I gotta study.