{She Said} That's just...swell.

I am genetically predisposed to a rather violent temper. 

{Case in point: the time my dad went berserk and brandished a firearm at some smart-aleck teens in a parking lot. 

In front of his mother and his two oldest daughters. 

But, hey, this here is a family-friendly blog and that's another story that we will not be telling at another time...

I'm just sayin' there may be a probable wellspring for these rants.}  

So, anyway, you may permit me the bit of rage that surged up when I walked out to the car for my drive to work this morning.

Minding my own business.
Juggling the purse, the lunch bag, the keys.
Reviewing the to-do list.
"Remember to do those co-worker evaluations/schedule the dermatology appointment/make sure that new suture arrived/am I on call this weekend?/ask April about book club/wonder how my patient from yesterday is doing...awwww, man.

Seriously?

So, today's checklist veered away from my previous to-do items and instead populated itself with:
"File a police report/call the insurance agent/find a glass repair shop/get resoundingly lost in Vancouver, Washington while trying to find the glass shop in north Portland, Oregon because I am NOT genetically predisposed to a good sense of direction and Mapquest has some outdated exit numbers and some effer stole our GPS from its well-concealed spot in the car/contact the adjuster with some serial numbers/go find myself good chocolate."

Ahem.  So the violent temper is now on a quiet simmer {lucky for the smash-and-grabber that they are anonymous}, and I'm off to see about that chocolate.

Hope your weekend starts off nicely, folks.