Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Exercising the bitch muscles

There was a point in my life when being called a bitch was sort of badge of honor.  I've mellowed over the years, and I now understand the power of quietly, politely, and calmly stand up for myself and my beliefs with logic and common sense.  That doesn't mean I don't need to use the bitch muscles anymore, it just means that I try other things first.

This morning, I had had enough of someone's bad behavior.  After months of trying to ignore it, trying to grit my teeth and bear it, and calmly asking for someone to listen, I got mad.  I probably wouldn't have had this individual not been trampling boundaries all summer and making my life difficult. Of course,  he had done all that plus was driving like a  complete jerk on a very busy street where many, many children walk to two different schools, where numerous businesses have their employees routed to get to work (since there is traffic and road construction at every other freeway off ramp in town), and where the traffic conditions were already dangerous due to poor planning in the 1970's .  I sat down and drafted a rather scathing email that used a few big words I'm sure he won't immediately understand and few that are not usually acceptable in polite society, which I know he will.

Sometimes in life, we are not given the opportunity to take the high road, and other times, it is fruitless journey.  When that happens, pull yourself together, wrap your self in whatever mental or emotional armor you need, sharpen your weapons (the metaphoric sort), and march in there and make a stand.  If at first you don't succeed with logic and politeness, flex your bitch muscle and prove that you aren't a pushover.  I think I should stitch this on a sampler, that is if I could sew a line that didn't look like it was done without eyesight and thumbs.

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