I completely lost it this weekend. Sunday late morning I'd finally had enough. I threw a world class temper tantrum. I'm not sorry I did it either. I think it's something that needed to happen.
Somehow, and it still confounds me, all but one of the men who have the ability to influence my life managed to pick this weekend to exersize that "charm" they all have. Every one of them managed to find a sore spot and poke it with a stick. Some knowingly, some unknowingly.
I'm so tired of being poked. I cannot do anything to change what happened this weekend, but I can do something to make sure it doesn't happen again. I made a declaration that from now on I'm looking out for number one. ME!!!
If they get hurt in the process, so be it. I'm not saying that women can't be as effective as men in poking sore spots. If a woman decides to poke I'll be happy to give her equal treatment under the "me first" policy I've decided to adopt.
Today is the first day in the new regime of me first, then you.



