Bitch-a-tude: Now I Have One

Friday, June 25, 2010

Well, I made it out of the “Funk Attack,” only to be thrown right into a down right outrage. I was so irate last night I could not sleep and awoke to even more anger, now I have developed a “bitch-a-tude.” It is hard to be comical when you have a bitch-a-tude but I have to find humor where I can.

So here is what set off my bitch-a-tude. The republican Senate thinks I’m a lazy, drug addicted, hobo living off of unemployment. Do they know me? Where are they getting this information? Have you guys been spreading rumors?

Yes I’m guilty. I WAS living off of unemployment, I’m sorry the stimulus package did not take in Kentucky. I have continued with my job search and the 2-inch stack of paper that holds the application results should attest to this. Now I hear you want me to pee in a cup, okay, and who exactly is paying for this test again?

I know I’m a boomer, might as well admit it, yes I inhaled. But do not be fooled by my tie-dyed tee shirts, it was a phase. I do not think I am a drug addict but then I guess maybe you are expecting me to respond with, “Wow, groovy, I love these chips.”

I must confess being described as a hobo confused me. I thought it meant “HOpping BOxcars,” was I wrong? Though my friends will tell you I was fast, I have aged. I do not think now I am fast enough to chase down a train, let alone jump aboard. But there is hope; Google still has search results for HOBO bags and cookbooks, I might have to check these out.

As to being called lazy, this is where my bitch-a-tude meter broke. Yes, I procrastinate but you did not have to call me names. I will get around to it eventually, who squealed that I did not run the vacuum cleaner yesterday? “Sticks and stones may break my bones..,” you know the rest, it is not nice to call people names.

Whew…………….I feel better. Tomorrow I will return to normal but for now....

Now I have the sudden urge to dance around my living room, eating chips, shouting groovy, practice my train jumping and doing it all in my underwear. That ought to scare them to death.