I am sorry.

As it seems, I am currently suffering from a WICKED case of PMS. I have never really fallen victim to this monthly debacle, but in the last 24 hours I have felt overwhelmingly compelled to freak out on nearly everyone I have come into contact with, and, well, have.

For that, I’d like to make amends.

My dear, sweet boyfriend:
Sorry for freaking out on you after you felt compelled to repeat - verbatim - nearly the entire dialog from “Tropic Thunder.” I know you enjoyed the movie, and in a sick way enjoyed how irritated it made me for you to continue doing it, but that was no excuse to smack you on the arm with the blunt force of a car crash then scream at you like a fire-breathing dragon. It was mortifying to see you look so terrified of me.

Waitress at the Goose:
I understand how it can be working in food service; I have been there too, sister. With that in mind, I am sorry for being a total bitch after finding out we were merely 4 minutes late to order food last night. Sure, my eye rolling and walking out of the restaurant without a comment to you was rude, but, in my defense, I had just spent 2 hours watching “Tropic Thunder” and was famished. If I didn’t eat something soon, I was going to lose it and my poor boyfriend was going to be my target practice. I’m sorry for being so rude. In hindsight hanging around, having a few pitchers and enjoying the quick buzz may have been exactly what I needed. Read More »