Let the bitterness begin!

I am evil.
I am mean.
I am judgmental.
I am a bitch.

Okay, maybe I am just cranky or short tempered, or maybe I am just normal, but I have to say it:

I don't like people.

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, my mom, my dad, my bro, etc. I have friends (really, I do!) and I love them all. I hate strangers. Those people that are in front of you in the grocery check-out line, the single mom with a toddler in tow who uses the 15-items-or-less aisle when she clearly has 40-odd items ("but they are all baby-food, so really it's one item, even though they are individual jars"). I should have sympathy for this woman - she's young, she's struggling, she's carrying a child and juggling a really hard life. And she's in the 15-ITEMS-OR-LESS aisle. So I loathe her.

Then her adorable child smiles at me, spits up a little on his mom and I think, "good job kid, you are karma's tool" and I smile back at him. Sincerely. Because - mom is cutting corners because she has to - and I get that. I just don't want her in line in front of me.

Or that witch at the airport. It was not even 5 AM and the line is forever. My plane leaves at 6. I was there at 4:30. This woman has held the counter person hostage for 30 min. Why? I have no idea. I can't make out the words, but I can hear the tone in her voice - that "I'm privileged" tone - that, "I'm special" tone. And I want to slap her. Woman we all have places to go and you need to get the hell out of my way.

And then she's on my flight, and my connecting flight. On my connecting flight she is sitting behind me complaining that the plane is very small and this isn't really "first class" and I'm thinking, "Yes, it is a small plane. Does it fly? Because when I get on an airplane my motto is 'safety first'. And you know what else? I was stranded, this was the only flight I could get and I am happy to get it. Shut up and let me sleep!"

"But there isn't any breakfast!"

I saw your butt. You've got a bit to spare. So do I - so that's not my point. If you don't eat for 3 hours it won't kill you. If it will, you should have planned ahead. I did. I have an insulin problem, so I pack protein snacks just in case. I plan ahead. I don't expect anyone to take care of me. I am responsible for myself.

I'm not a saint, I'm just not that bitch. I'm a totally different brand of bitch.

I'm the bitch who is glaring daggers at you plotting evil things to befall you for my own amusement. Why? I don't know you and you are in my way. And, if I am looking at you, it means you did some totally ass thing to get my attention.

Because if you are pretty or nice or do some good deed in front of me? I notice. I think well of you for it. I just don't see it that often. And believe me, I am looking.

I admit I hate people most when I am in line. I get that you are trying to live your life too - I just don't want to share it.

My friend Dave said, "Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet" which I mocked him for greatly.

I have an odd assortment of friends. I love them all for different reasons, they all drive me nuts in different ways, and if you saw us together you might wonder why I am friends with them and vice versa. I saw something amazing in them that got them past that, "I hate strangers" thing. They did the same with me.

I'm friends with a single mother. Just not the one in the 15-items-or-less aisle. She probably pulled the same bullshit more times than not, but never when I was with her, 'cause she knows I won't stand idly by for that shit.

Count your items before you get in the restricted aisle. If you don't, look over your shoulder and ask yourself who is hoping you break your neck in the parking lot - and then be happy that she doesn't actually have any telekinetic abilities.