When I'm feeling particularly grumpy, I tell the Canadian I'm a grumpasaurus.   I thought this was *my* word, but a quick google search, as usual, let's me know that am I not original, AND that others have not only already thought of it, but also have had the time and energy to market it with mugs, t-shirts and plush toys.

Today, I'm feeling a bit like a grumpasaurus. Here's why:

1) Hormones: these sneaky buggers pop up at the most inconvenient times and cause me to snap at the Canadian, the Rotten one and pretty much anyone else who unfortunately crosses my path.  These f*!&ing hormones also give me a rotten case of insomnia, force my Advil Liqui-gel consumption to skyrocket to unhealthy levels to deal with the accompanying cramps, and force tiny eruptions on my face. 

2) Allergies: For the most part I have had these kicked since I started acupuncture a few years ago but for some reason I woke up this morning and have gone through half a box of kleenex in my attempt to deal with the incessant sneezing which I'm sure, by now, has broken a vessel somewhere in my body.

3) Asthma: Something I usually only have to deal with when I'm exposed to cats (I'm ridiculously and annoyingly allergic to cats -- but I LOVE them!!) but this morning when I was awakened by the sneezing fit, it also was accompanied by an asthma attack.  For no reason. 

4) Annoying people: I have a whole list of these -- like the crazy lady who accused me of scratching her ugly gold Lexus (sorry if you own one, but really, gold?) with my back-seat passenger side door.  Here's a mock-up of how we're standing:

So, I'm standing there, loading groceries into the back of my car (notice the raised door in the picture) and the conversation went something like this:

Lady in ugly gold Lexus:You scratched my door
Me: No I didn't.  As you can see, I'm alone. No one would be sitting in that back passenger seat so I would have no reason to open that door, much less scratch yours.
Lady in ugly gold Lexus: You scratched my door
Me: *sigh* (still loading groceries in the back) No, I didn't.  I'm about 8 feet away from your car, there's NO WAY my door would even touch your car if it opened.
Lady in ugly gold Lexus: You scratched my door
Me: Open the door that you think scratched yours and see if it even touches your car.

At this point, she jerks open my back passenger door which misses her door by probably four feet.
Lady in ugly gold Lexus: Oh.  Maybe you didn't scratch my car.
No. $hit.

I'm also currently annoyed with:
  • my twenty-something next door neighbors who play beer pong in their backyard (very loudly) when I'm trying to sleep.
  • my knees, which haven't been quite right since I fell on them (on concrete floors) back in September while heading to the bathroom to pee out the 4 bottles of champagne I'd consumed with the Canadian and my Louisiana cousins.  (I don't walk like I have rickets or anything, they are just sort of achy these days)
  • the hangnail on my left thumb which has turned into something far more dramatic
  • several moms on facebook who seem to think their child is the only child who's ever learned to poop, pee, say their mom is awesome, and generally look cute.  We get it.  Oh, and, I've now hidden you because you just did that about the millionth time too many, and while I enjoy the other normal posts you make, your crappy facebook etiquette regarding your kids kind of overwhelms the other stuff.  
There's plenty more, but, I've pretty much turned this post into a giant rant due to my feeling like a grumpasaurus today.  On the up-side, I do feel better about getting some of it out.  Sometimes a girl just needs to scream into the proverbial pillow once in awhile. 

Also, to get back on track in this blog, I have more expat news to post as well, but the Canadian and I are going on a very teeny getaway this weekend so I will do my best to post that when we return.
The fluffy version of the Grumpasaurus Rex. Can anyone make me one?

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