I'm going to throw myself under the bus...

So, this has been a pretty rough year and I have yet to figure out a way to deal with the stresses that keep getting flung my way. I feel like a rubber band being stretched too far...And then stretched a little further...And maybe a little further. I'm barely holding it together. Earlier in the year, I started smoking again. I know a few of you knew, but not many and really, only the people who see me all the time. I felt guilty the whole time I was smoking again. I mean, what kind of jackass goes through the hell of quitting only to go, "Hmm...Maybe I should smoke again?" *raises hand* Me. I do. I'm an idiot. I didn't smoke as much as I used to and it wasn't like before. I mean, it sort of helped me deal with the stress and kept me from wanting to pull my hair out, but I knew I needed to stop. I had considered stopping when we got the house, but then shortly after we got the kids and then the house flooded. Then we were going on a family vacation and I didn't want to be going through withdrawals in Hawaii. Then we got back and my parents came to town. Again, not a good time to be going through withdrawals. So, I waited...


It's been two weeks since I quit again. I still find myself, from time to time, wanting a smoke. Mostly, these times come after listening to Phoenix help Sir Complains A Lot with her spelling words. (I know, some people suck at spelling, but really, "tried" doesn't start with a "ch"!!! How many times do we have to say that!? And when Phoenix tells her to spell it again, she again says, "C...H...I...--" *pulls out hair*) I'm a mean, horrible person. I know. I'm okay with that. I also would like a cigarette after taking phone calls at work. I can't keep doing my job for much longer. I have no idea how to respond to some of the fucking morons I talk to. I had a guy freaking out on me yesterday because he's at his default APR. Well, duh, fuck face, you've been over the limit three times in the last six months and surprise, surprise, you're over the limit AGAIN! No, I can't fix it. No, I cannot promise that it'll be lowered if you pay it down. Then he said, "I'll cancel the account." I said, "Okay, I can cancel it for you." (I love to call their bluffs!) Of course the pussy said, "No! Don't cancel it! I'll keep it open and that payment I just made (It was made three weeks ago.) was the last dime you'll get from me! I'll go bankrupt on it. I don't care! I'm 77 years old! I don't need to pay my *insert my company's name here* bill to get into Heaven!" And then he hung up on me. You know, I'm not the enemy...I'm the messenger. I don't like being killed day in and day out. And won't he be surprised when he gets to Heaven's Gates and finds that without our card, he won't gain entrance? I can't stand being yelled at. I got screamed at by another man the other day because we had sent him a solicitation email. OMG! It's the end of the world as we know it. He literally screamed at me, calling me stupid and an idiot, and telling me he doesn't have time for this bullshit, blah, blah, blah. Mmmmhmmm...Me neither. Of course, he hung up before I could tell him that even though I took him off the list for marketing emails, mail, and phone calls, it can take up to 12 weeks for it to stop. Oh well, fucking idiot. Still, these people make my head ache...badly. And my fingers get itchy for a smoke. I've been good though. Even when Phoenix has told me that it's okay if I give in sometimes...She knows...I haven't been sleeping that great. (Until I discovered Melatonin, which is a God-send. Seriously! I actually got some sleep!) I just feel so on edge and I'm scared I'm going to end up snapping because I always feel stressed out. And the other day I realized how bad it was...


I went to the local grocery store the other night to get something we needed. I somehow ended up with a container of chocolate ice cream too...*shifty eyes* Perhaps I should've opted for the margarita mix instead. Oh well, that's neither here nor there. So, I go to the self-check out and swipe my member card when a man comes stumbling up to me. "Can I help you?" he asks. Me, giving him a sideways dirty look, "No. I'm fine." He says, "We're all humans. Just let me help you." Me, "No, seriously, I'm fine." It was then that I could smell the beer on his breath. Gross. He then says, "Whatever. It's my birthday today." *blank look* "Okay." Him-- "Jesus! You can't even say happy birthday? We're human, you should act like it!" Me, "Happy birthday." (I was trying to ring up my stuff faster and he was just slowing me down.) Him, "Oh sure, now you say something. You know, I don't know why people are so mean to each other. My mom used to call me a little faggot. She used to say, 'You're nothing but a faggot punk!' Can you believe that?" Me- "Must've been rough. Now really, you're in my way. I'm leaving." It was then that he stood in my way and I walked around him to leave. The fucker started to follow me to the parking lot and I immediately got a little scared. I mean, I got robbed all those years ago while working at Pizza Hut and I don't really need to be punched in the face again. As I spun around and glared at the fucker following me and then looked for a manager because they really needed to do something about the drunk fuck bothering people (Mind you, three managers were standing off to the side watching the scene unfold.), I found myself hoping--literally hoping--the fucking bastard would put his hands on me because I would unleash on the mother fucker. Can you believe that? I wanted to hurt him because he was repulsive and bothering me and smelled like beer and I was going to snap. I knew that if he touched me, I would snap and I was hoping he would.


*sigh* He didn't lay a finger on me. The store manager came walking over and I told him, "You'd better watch me walk to my car." He nodded and stood in front of the store, arguing with the drunkard. It was as I got into my car that I realized I need to find a way, and soon, to relieve my stress. I still don't know what to do, but I'm open to suggestions. Everyday when I leave work, I feel like crying and not just from the tension headache I'm normally sporting. Any suggestions? Anyone? Perhaps some kick boxing? I need something before I snap. I'm so scared I'm going to end up going off on someone at work and I need my job. And I guess going back to smoking isn't an option...Especially since I always feel a bit guilty for doing it. Oh yeah...And it's supposedly bad for your health.