Monday, September 12, 2011

"That's it...no more Christmas cards for you"

I got home from church and wrote a really bitter hurting blog about a passive-aggressive coward I sorta encountered (they were passive-aggressive...so it wasn't a REAL encounter...just a sorta encounter). Then I saved it into my edit posts and didn't publish it because I felt that in doing so I would be a passive-aggressive coward.  I don't want to be that.  I would like to hope that if I have to say something to someone, I would say it to their face and not hide behind my blog hoping they get it.  I would also hope that I am a big enough person that I could let this go without needing to take a trip to my friendly family doctor to see about getting a Rx to a friendly anti-anxiety pill....but the anxiety and anger and pissiness increases 10fold each week I have a sorta encounter with this person.  I haven't made it a real encounter yet because I don't quite trust myself not to say something mean, cruel, ugly and hateful.  So I do what I always do when I feel this way.  I shut the eff up.and I nod and smile.  and my friends ask me why I'm not getting that friendly Rx for an anti-anxiety pill.

after a while I talked to my Dad.  Now my Dad is the OPPOSITE of passive-aggressive. He "brags" about scaring the crap out of a coworker that called him a "damn Russian" back in the 60s   (although he denies it mostly...he's more proud about being Ukrainian than he lets on...)  and fortunately/unfortunately I take after my Dad, especially in temperament and personality. getting his take helped, although I had to explain to my Dad the equivalent  to him of my complaint would be like people who stop sending him Christmas cards one year and never send them again.  He laughed at that.  That I can make my Dad laugh while I'm all pissy and mad did help me cheer a bit.  but then, Dad and I do best when we sally at each other in mock arguments.  lol.  Mom hates that.  we're shouting and yelling at each other and we mean "I love you" and understand it back from the other.  She gets it, but she doesn't like it.  I don't do that with Mom, just Dad.  Don't even do it with Joe.  When me and Dad start, Joe goes and hides in the corner with Mom and drinks tea with her while she plies him with cookies.  Joe's awesome.  So's Mom.

At least I got to spend some time with my mother in law at church this morning.  That was the only good thing I got out of it this week.  :(

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