I know I live a privileged life as a white American. I don’t share a room with 6 other people. I don’t work 18+ hours a day in a Chinese sweatshop. I don’t have to worry about my daughter getting shot when she is outside playing. I have food, running water and shelter. I have a car. I have a job when the unemployment rate is rising to almost 6%.
When I’m feeling angry, depressed, tired, lonely, sad, or any other negative emotion, I try to think of these statistics. I try to tell myself that my life really isn’t so bad; that I could be living in Darfur or Iraq right now. The type of violence and horror these people have experienced has never reached my quiet, peaceful Colorado town.
Today, however, none of these statistics are making me feel better. I’m pissed. I’m stressed. I have a churning stew of sulfuric acid in my belly. I don’t wanna be a single mom today. I want a day off. I want to get away from my life. I feel like the monster in Cloverfield. I just want to rip off the Statue of Liberty’s head.
I’m pissed at the fat-ass tourists who decided to fill the ENTIRE CAMPGROUND where my best friend chose to have her wedding tomorrow. I’m pissed that the campground owners would rather sell a campsite to a flogging Texan than a local. I’m pissed that those campground owners didn’t MENTION to the fat-ass Texans that there was going to be a wedding this weekend and if they would kindly drive their RV somewhere else, it would be greatly appreciated.
I’m pissed that I listened to my daycare when they said LB was ready to potty train at 18 months. Its been an 8 month war since then. Its a battle everyday. I sometimes stop and wonder WHY THE HELL AM I FIGHTING WITH A 2 YEAR OLD? I’M OBVIOUSLY NOT GOING TO WIN! It makes me so flogging angry, and then I get angry with the fact that I am angry. Then I morph into Cloverfield Monster Mom and my daughter is staring up at me in horror.
To further elaborate on my shallow American bitchfest, I may as well jump into the Astrological explaination of why I’m like this. I’m a Pisces. My moon is in Aries. This sets up for some major passive-aggresive behavior. Pisces are understanding, soothing, philosophical. Aries are spontaneous, reactive, energetic. When your sun is in Pisces and your Moon is in Aries, you try ever so hard to hide your soft, gentle self from the world. You don’t want to be weak. You don’t want to be walked over. You get angry when your Piscean side starts showing. You try to pretend you really aren’t another spineless, simpering push-over.
When I have moments of weakness like I have today, I discredit them immediately (see above). I blame it all on my Pisces Sun/Aries Moon combo. Cause I am weak sometimes. I am an escapist. I can’t hide from that, as much as I may try.
In yo Face Miss Cleo.