Flowers to calm me the f*ck down.

Aw, sugar... you stressed?  Me, too.  Or at least I was.

Today was weird and hard.  I slept like crap last night, then got up way too early, had a weird stove mishap, then almost got killed by a damn fool in a semi truck whom I can only guess must have been high on... whatever it is the kids are doing these days.  He was driving that thing like he was a Tazmanian Devil on angel dust, in a goddamn Mazerati.  I continued to watch him be a freak on the road, until I had to turn to go a different way. But in that time, he almost drove off into some bushes.  It was amazing, and scary.  Kind of wished there was some phone number I could call once I reached my destination, but alas, no dice.

The drive home was not really any better.  I think the thing people from California need to understand when they come up here, is that there are cops in the suburbs who aren't as busy as the ones in Portland Proper.  They will stop you, and they will... give you a ticket.  I don't speed through Hillsboro or Beaverton normally, (I got a ticket there once, and that was enough for me,) but while in the right lane because the left lane was spaced just so neither of us could get into it, this guy was practically pushing me.  I kept speeding up, and he kept pushing.  I looked down and realized I was doing 85.

Not cool, dude.

I finally got over into the left lane once there was space, and watched him pass me like I was parked, and then weave incessantly, only to end up behind me again.  Of course, we had the same stop.  (Damn it!)  I mistakenly got into the middle lane in the off ramp, because I had to turn right, and then almost immediately turn left.  At the time, I didn't realize that the middle lane goes either straight back onto the freeway, or the opposite direction from what I wanted.  No right turn from that lane.  It would be really nice if there were signs there for that, because... there aren't.

Anyway, I realized my error and tried to get back over, but dude was next to me, in that lane.  I slowed down.  He slowed down.  I sped up.  He sped up.   I also noticed he was laughing while this was going on, because what do you do when you are basically a ridiculous troll with no life?  You do shit like this.  Soon, I was running out of space, as well as fucks about him, so I sped up really fast, and cut him off. 

Asshole!!!  
 
This sent Ruby's water bottle flying into the back of my seat, and then under it.  I could hear the damn thing ratting under my seat, waiting to roll out from there, and under my pedal and kill us all, because at that point on the road, there was no place to temporarily stop.  Took several curves on a windy road, going extra slow, before I was able to do that, which I'm sure made everyone behind me, really happy.

I wish I could say it was over when I got home, but of course, it wasn't.  As someone with sensory processing issues, and difficulty with too much noise stimulus, I promise myself that from now on, I will remember to wait until I've had time in a quiet space before shopping at Trader Joe's during... either Oh My Crapping God Hour, or Stupid Hour.  Maybe it's more of an Oh My Stupid Crapping God... Hour.

I don't know.

All I do know, is that I dodged many a dumbass who wasn't paying attention to where they were going.  One guy was so preoccupied, I watched him walk into an aisle display full of watermelons.  And... right after that, this woman walked into ME, while exiting an aisle, looking over her shoulder.  That was not nice, my babies.  In fact, It kind of felt like spots and birds were suddenly bouncing around together in my head place.

At that point, I just had nothing left for my kid, who was jovially hopping up and down, cheering, and waving her hands in my face, because she found the owl!!!!  I kind of responded like a raccoon, and with sort of a growling hiss, told her that I could not handle her jumping, yelling, and waving her hands in my face.  Not my best moment, but... Oh My Stupid Crapping God, I'd had enough!!!

I mean, JESUS ANN!!!

So, the only thing I could think to do after this, was get out my camera and find some pretties.  And think:  "Wow, that was not fun!"  

Still, Honey pies, we made it.  The day is just about over.  We are not dead, and we did not kill anyone, damage property, or set anything on fire, no matter how tempting!  Let's give a cheer to that, and hi five ourselves, up TOP!  

And... well, here.  Here are some fucking flowers.  They worked to calm me down.  (Go Dialectical Behavioural Therapy!)  Hope they work for you, too.  

I have no idea what the fuck this is, but I thought it was weird and cool.  It's like fucshia kale, or something.  Whatever.  It's pretty.  And weird.  And... you just have to wonder what the hell is going on here.

Don't have time for brunch and a real mimosa?  Oh well.  Here's a fucking mimosa tree.  Just sit under this thing for a while.  Shave the little leaves off of their stems, with your fingernails.  It's meditative as fuck.  Trust me.

Peanut butter tree is just starting out.  It smells absofuckinglutely amazing.  The flowers smell like angels dancing in your sinuses.  In a good way.  Yes. 

Oh, yes.

Dance, magic!  Dance!

Mr. Hed planted this goddamn beautiful flower in our garden.  I love the way the seeds each have their own teeny, tiny bloom.  Breathe in... contemplate that.  Tell that anxiety bitch to be cool, because she's gonna be too busy looking at about a thousand tiny blossoms that these bees are totally getting high as kites off of.

Like sexy little stars, they are...

Well, I feel better...

-H