ASSHOLES

I was reading Amber's blog and her last post brought up sometime that I am currently stewing over. I didn't even realize exactly how made I was until I read her post. This is exactly what my T-doc was talking about: catastrophic thinking. I have unconsciously been ruminating about this and if I would have continued without realizing, I would likely have snapped. I can now hopeful bitch them out nice and calm like.

A couple of friends went smelt dipping last week. (Netting small fish for frying, at night with flashlights.) I acted interested as they told of their exploits. They said stated that they were going again on Sat night and invited me to go. They also said that I should bring my son; that he would have a good time. Did I mention that THEY invited US. We did a lot of prep work to get ready. It was all my son talked about. I had to buy a license. I had to borrow waders for Ash-boy. I bought batteries for the flashlights and headlamps. Sat we wait and wait. It gets dark. We wait. 10pm comes and I call. No answer at Van Horn's house. I then ring Smity's cell. I get some BS about Van Horn backing out and hr prior and being P-whipped. Sadly he is quite P-whipped. He always gets with chicks that control him. He has such a low personal self-image, but that isn't really any of my business, although I throw it in his face and call him a punk as often as I can. Just as I will the next time I see his no-commitment-keeping-ass. I sardonically jabbed that I really appreciated the call so we didn’t wait around all fucking night for someone to come and actually live up the promise to my son. I hung-up. I will have to contain myself when I go back to work. It will be hard because I already want to smack them around verbally. ASSHOLES.