Due to my liver trying to kill me, the doctors said that it might behoove me to limit my sodium intake. You know what? YOU KNOW WHAT? That shit is in EVERYTHING.
Some of my friends and family (who mean well, they really do) have appointed themselves my food police. Others, my medicine police. Still others, my appointment police.
Being told what to do and doing it with a smile has never been my strong suit. And now, I'm being fact-checked constantly. Some might feel comforted by this. I want them to go the hell away and let me watch the Cooking Channel. (how twisted is that)? And then we have the people who do ALLLLLL thosse things.
You might be a smidge grumpy when you spend your time on the can contemplating HOW I'M GOING TO TELL THOSE PEOPLE TO F*CK THE HELL OFF over the next week.
Woe betide anyone who criticizes any decision of mine (Them- "Do you really need that potato chip? You didn't eat them again last night, did you? Me- *hands over chip while sullenly staring at their nosy asses*), because I'M GOING TO CALL THEIR NOSY ASSES ABOUT EVERY F*CKING THING FROM NOW ON.
Tell me what to eat...
Nosy F*cker- "Cy, what are you calling about?"
Me- "What, I can't call at 4 AM to ask you if you thought putting hot sauce on the quesadilla I just made was a good idea?"
Nosy F*cker- "Whaaaa...."
Me- "YOU WANT TO BOSS ME AROUND, IT'S A 24 HOUR A DAY JOB YOU ASSHAT. NOW, SHOULD I ADD HOT SAUCE OR NOT? JESUS, I DON'T HAVE ALL NIGHT."
THAT would crimp their style. Yes, I know they love me. Threw a rather large benefit for me last month. I love them, too which would be all wonderful if they would periodically LEAVE ME ALONE.
God, I want potato chips now. Crap.