Why is it that when a guy has a bad day, he gets to be left alone with his XBOX and his Call of Duty video game that lets him relieve his stress by blowing up people on TV?
But when a woman has a bad day, she is "emotional". But wait...that doesn't mean leave her alone with her cup of coffee and a Martha Stewart magazine so she can lose herself in dreams of clean house, perfectly organized storage areas, and well planned dinner menus. It means she gets told that she's "emotional". Followed by "oh honey, what time are we eating?"
Of course, I'm venting. No one really asked me what time we were eating. Just what was for dinner.
My return to the blogosphere is prompted by a need to vent. Not to anyone in particular; just to vent. Because my emotions are getting the best of me, apparently. Could be true, I suppose. But when I come home from work and see DD#1 laying in the same groove on the sofa that she occupies EVERY DAY after school, I feel my blood pressure rise. When my eyes scan over to the recycling bin and I see the cardboard boxes literally falling out of the area, I'm about to blow. And then DD#2's piles of dolls, my little ponies, AND cheerleading pom poms STILL scattered about the living room where they had been left three days ago...I lose it. Steam coming out of my ears, I march into the living room to address both girls.
But then I stop myself. Because I know I'm emotional. And I don't like the first words being said to me in a day to be grumpy ones.
So I start my rant with "I don't mean to walk in the door and come unglued, BUT...."
Considerate, right?
I guess being "emotional" can work both ways...lol
