Ellemental

I am, for the most part, a calm person. I generally don’t get too bent out of shape about anything. I’m convinced, though, that as I get older my hormones are gearing up and this is resulting in some major PMS episodes.

Case in Point:

Actual train of thought during morning commute.
She’s Gone by Hall and Oates is on the car radio.

H&O:
She’s Gone She’s Gone
Oh why? Oh why?

Me:
*sniffle* Oh, poor man. She’s gone. Why?

H&O:
I better learn how to face it

Me:
Buck up, little man. It’ll get better. You WILL learn to face it.

H&O:
She’s Gone She’s Gone
Oh why? Oh why?

Me:
*generalized empathy, sadness, woe*

H&O:
I’d pay the devil to replace her

Me:
*snif…..* Waaaaait a minute. Did he just say he’d pay the devil to replace her? REPLACE HER? He’s all upset but he’s already thinking about her REPLACEMENT VALUE?????

H&O:
She’s Gone She’s Gone
Oh why? Oh why?

Me:
Oh, quitcher bitchin, you insensitive oaf. She IS gone, and good. for. her.

H&O:
What went wrong?

Me:
Let’s see. What went wrong? Hmmm…Maybe it’s the fact that you are an ASSHOLE who is already concerned with REPLACING your woman.

At that point, my fury and indignation was so great that I nearly rearended the car in front of me.

The VIM? Well, let’s just say he deserves a medal.