Sometimes, I Am A Really Terrible Person

I've been fighting the urge to confess two things things to you all day. I don't know why, but I've got to get it off my chest.

The second thing I want to confess happened last night, and I've somehow linked it with the first thing I want to confess, so now I am doubly weighted down with guilt all of a sudden. And what's the guilt about, you ask?

I am a terrible person.

Okay, well, I am not an all around terrible person. I'm only occasionally a terrible person, but, when I am, I torture myself with my terribleness. It's kind of perverse.

And, so, I must confess my terribleness to gain some relief from it.
  1. A little girl and her mother walked into a place where I work a couple of weeks ago. The little girl, who was maybe six or seven years old, was wearing a pink t-shirt with a rainbow on it with words that read "Rainbows are hugs from the sky". Some people might have looked at her, thought How freaking cute is she?, and felt their insides turn to melty candy floss.

    Me? I kind of had the urge to kick her but decided it made more sense to punch her mother.

    Don't worry. I didn't actually do either of those things, because I have a handle on my terribleness, and I know that the earnestness in others that makes me want to crush them doesn't actually make them worth crushing. Earnestness just makes me stabby.

  2. rainbows are hugs from the sky
  3. A man and his wife came into the place where I work. The wife looked to be in the advanced stages of some degenerative disease judging by how tiny she looked all duffled up in her motorized wheelchair.

    After we were all done dealing with each other business-wise, her husband told me that she wanted to speak to me. I had to lean in really close to hear her voice, because she was too weak to speak above a whisper.

    She'd had a really sweet smile the whole time, so I thought she was going to say something nice, but did she? NO. She proceeded to ask me why I was wearing so much black and suggested that I would look prettier if I wore brighter colours. We'd just met, and she was already criticizing my favoured style of dress.

    I instantly decided that no matter what was wrong with her, she was still a jerk who should have the little stabilizing wheels knocked off her wheelchair.

    Bitch.
So, there you have it. I'm the kind of person who wants to kick cute little girls in earnest t-shirts and further injure older women struggling to breath in wheelchairs. If you handed me a fluffy kitten with a broken paw who was wearing a PETA button and crying over the murder of baby seals, I'd probably have the urge to flick its ears.

MY HEART IS STONE COLD, PEOPLE.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to find a switch and self-flagellate some more until my humanity returns.