There was a guy whistling while pumping his gas this morning.
And I really, r e a l l y wanted to hit him.
Yes, dear reader, the grrrr has entered day four. I was fine when I woke up. Got through showering and drying all 50 lbs of my hair just fine. Even got dressed without much trouble. Headed to the gas station and took the wrong street, which put me one block south of the 7-11. Which meant I would need to turn left, against a mile of traffic to go one block up because they narrowed 24th down to one lane in each direction, with a suicide lane in the middle.
That's when the F word started flying out of my mouth and now I'm back to pissed off.
I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong. I'll be better Monday.