I can bitch, I can bitch, oh, the BITCH is back!!!

OK, in the last few weeks I've bitched about politics & religion, but who doesn't. I've ranted -- not the same thing. I've pondered and ruminated and reported on minute developments in my thrilling life.

Yawn.

But today, finally, I get to BITCH about something! Yay!!!

My first husband divorced me for a bunch of reasons, but the main one was my awful temper. Carl knows I have a bad temper, but his mother was a rage-aholic and he has 3 sisters, so crazy women are something he's used to. Thank the ordered universe. Being with a man who takes my mood swings in stride has done a lot to calm me down.

But the temper is still there. It just doesn't feel the need to come out & play as often.

What sets me off? Simple. Pressure and frustration at the same time.

The worst example of this is when it's lunchtime and something prevents me from getting food into myself when I WANT IT.

That hasn't happened lately. Not since probably 2002 or so. Really, I've been goooood.

Today, however, instead of going home for lunch as I generally do, I had a bunch of Arby's coupons, and even had one clipped most of the way out, just hanging by a corner so I'll be able to detach it quickly and hand it to the cashier. I was hungry, and I was READY TO EAT.

Went to the car. Looked at The Tire. I have a slow leak that necessitates putting air into the tire about once a week. I did not want today to be one of those days.

Because I was HUNGRY.

Notice, there's a GR in the word "hungry."

...but the tire was just a little too low to chance the secondary highway that leads to the Big Cowboy Hat.

Okie-dokey, no problemo, since there's a gas station just down the road from work.

Volly goes up to the window and hands the guy behind the counter a dollar, to get quarters to put into the air compressor.

Someone in the Reagan administration decided it was okay to charge people for air; until then it was free.

GR. But I've accepted this sorry fact. And when I find a machine that charges 50 cents instead of 75 I feel like I've accomplished something.

Anyway. The guy behind the counter starts whining that he's only got 6 quarters in his drawer and he won't get to the bank until 3pm.

And this is my problem, becauuuuuuse????

I wished the little hemorrhoid a good day (no, not really) and informed him that I'd be going to another "convenience" store if I could make it there on my flat tire.

I hope he worried about me all day and it made him have a stroke.

Unfortunately, the store didn't have the kind of door you could slam. I love to slam doors.

Fortunately, my car has a nice, slammable door, and I hope he felt the floor shaking under his feet all the way inside the store. Yeahhh.

I had to make a U-turn, and about the only good part of this story is that both lanes were clear at that instant. That was rare.

Went to the next "convenience store" and parked next to the air compressor. Went inside and found approximately 40,000 people standing in line. They were buying beer (at 12 noon on a Thursday!), buying cigarettes, buying lottery tickets and flirting with the cashiers. I saw one guy who looked like he was wearing a dress.

I got on line and waited, and waited, and waited. Got to the front of the line, handed the cashier my dollar, opened my mouth to ask for quarters and

The (insert derogatory term of your choice, she knows who she is) walked away to talk to someone else!

So I waited some more.

She came back, mumbled an apology, gave me my quarters, and I put air in my tire. By the time I was done chasing my tail, lunch was half over, so forget about Arby's. I had a container of microwavable Campbell's soup in my desk drawer at work, and that's what and where lunch was.

Oh, another amazing piece of good luck: I managed NOT to spill soup on my clothing. Will wonders never cease.

If anything stands between me and Arby's tomorrow, I suggest you tune into "20/20."

Oh, and

GR.