Bitch Blog. Here we go:

I'm all out of sorts these past few days. Don't know what is wrong, although my horoscope seems to allude to this kind of thing. I should have read ahead and prepared. But I didn't, so this is the result.

Mom Rant: Why is it that your darling children seem to forget all the hours you slaved over the laundry, especially in a house that rarely uses a dryer and chooses to hang clothes to dry? The gathering and sorting, handwashing (yeah, a little), hanging, taking down, folding, putting away? Then, when they get old enough to do it themselves, the nagging? So do you think, in appreciation of all your hard work in making sure they do not need to greet the world naked and shivering every day, they might hang up some of your clothes? Like the few you threw in their load of laundry just to fill it out? But noooo - there you find them, days later, crumpled and damp in the bottom of the basket. Do I have cooties? It's not like it was my underwear or anything. Sheesh.

Club Rant: I am cursed to be the current prez of a testosterone inundated computer club. These guys are an exercise in futility. Honestly, that territorial shit has got to go. But the worst is the guy who is still acting, I kid you not, like a high-school girl. You know, the sweet to your face, monster behind your back? I swear his head must spin when I turn around. And it's not just to me. This guy gets his greatest kicks out of sending email with the express purpose of pissing people off (which he admits, BTW) then pulling the "Who, me?" act when he gets called on it - and call him on it I do. I fire one back, and you do not hear me say "oh my, you must have misunderstood, I didn't mean that, no, not at all..." I stand behind those words. I wish he'd stand behind a few. Or under them. He does this to the people who are doing the most, too - these people are difficult enough to find in any type of club - so what, precisely does this accomplish? Of course. The attention angle. Ok, scratch high school - subtract a few years.

Biz Rant: Yeah, I know money is tight. It is for me, too. And I'm the single parent here, bub. So the next time you want to tap me, yet again, for "a little advice", I'm sending a friggin' bill. A big one.