Too much pressure

Have you ever sat on one of the priority seats on a train or bus and immediately felt an immense amount of pressure? I guess some fuckers out there will be like “no, what you going on about, is there priority seating on public transport? Surely if when I get on the bus and occupy a seat then that is mine until I get off.” No you little horrors, priority seats are for people who need to sit down more than you, like the elderly, people with disabilities, pregnant birds (or blokes I guess) and people who are severely hungover. Okay, admittedly I just added that last one but those poor people should qualify for priority seating to, have you ever tried standing on a bus when that evil fucker Tequila is still occupying your body? Brutal.

A pregnant colleague was saying just the other day how the train was so busy and she had to stand. This made my blood boil. It’s not even like you don’t want to offend just in case she isn’t pregnant, she is like full on about to drop preggers. Such a nice bird as well, there was me slagging the horrible cunts off and she’s like “well no-one really looks up anymore so they probably just didn’t notice me.” Which is true, everyone is in there phone rather than taking in what is going on around them. Do not get me started on spacial awareness!

So why is it, that when I sit in the priority seats, I feel like I’m a judge on the X-Factor. Like genuinely, it’s the closest I’ll ever feel to being God like and it’s proper stressful. Watching people get on and judging whether they are worthy of the priority seat you’re currently occupying. Now I could be one of those horrible fuckers buried in me phone and not looking up but that’s not me, I just can’t do it. Besides, it’s a great excuse to be a right judgey bitch and all in a good cause. Excuse me while I polish my halo, you may now call me Saint fuckin Michelle!

What a minefield it is though; I mean obvs you have your blatant priority folk: the elderly, the preggers, those with disabilities and the severely hungover but it is hard sometimes to decide. For example, at what age do you qualify as elderly and in need of a seat? Does someone who’s older than me qualify for the seat I’m occupying? Do you risk offending asking someone who looks older than you but not elderly if they need your seat? What if you do offend them and royally piss all over their day, how cuntish is that. It’s a bloody nightmare, I’m just going to stay well away from the priority seats from now on, I just can’t be dealing with that much pressure on me daily commute.

I must say, not all of my fellow commuters are a horrible bunch of fuckers, most are but not all.  Just the other day, I was on a busy train on the way home standing as per the norm and this lovely fella asked me if I wanted his seat.  Now I’m just going to assume that this lovely man was being a gentleman (yay for chivalry) and wasn’t asking because he thought I was older than him or preggers.  Oh fuck off, he was defo being a gentleman….

In other news: well it is not actually other news but a rant. Don’t you just hate those fuckers that recline on a plane. Another stress induced situation, watching people get on your plane being a judgey bitch and praying they don’t sit in the seat in front of you because that fucker looks like a right recliner!!

 

You horrible bitch…….

Argh, I am so pissed off right now, I don’t often let anyone other than myself piss all over my day but as my lovely Welsh friends would say, “I’m tamping, raging, fuming.”

I am having a fab week, work has been productive, Tuesday was a day off, I received my tax refund yesterday (which went straight to pay for the desert race that I stupidly agreed to run/walk/crawl with Mr C ugh), we met our fab friends last night and had an awesome meal at Tableau Bistro and tomorrow night, we are meeting up with a load of British ex-pats for what is no doubt going to be a very messy night. So after work today I head to my Hip Hop dance class to perfect my moves to Hurricane Chris’s Halle Berry (tbh, I was shit at it, like proper shit but hey it was fun and that’s what counts right). Anyways, I finish and go to get the bus home feeling happy, famished and looking forward to whatever concoction Mr C was knocking up for dinner (okay let’s be clear about this, when I say “knocking up” that doesn’t mean Mr C is nailing (in case I need to also clear this up, when I say “nailing,” I mean fuckin, shaggin, making love etc etc) me dinner, “knocking up” is also a term for throwing something together. )

If you’re still with me after that last paragraph, first of all, well done, I read that back and got proper fuckin lost. Secondly, bear with me, I’m almost at why my blood is boiling a wee (small not urine) bit.

So, I gets on the bus and all is well (that’s not really true, all wasn’t well in the first place. Like a dumb twat, I’d forgotten me sunglasses and was getting right blinded by the sun), I’m excited to get home for me dinner and to watch our new Netflix show Safe and boom, some horror gets on me bus and totally fucks up my smug life is great vibe……..cheers love.

A family gets on, a Mum, Dad, a stroller (buggy), two little people and an even smaller one. Now, I imagine you think I’m going to start banging on about the little people and the even smaller one but no, something happened that might surprise you and for sure surprised me………………

Next stop, some older bird gets on the bus and she, is the horror who pissed all over my week. The family had their stroller in the spot where the fold up chairs are and though there was plenty of other seats this bird said loud enough for the whole bus to hear and sound like a complete bitch “can you move this so at least one person can sit down.” The family of course, shuffled the little people, even smaller one and the stroller to accommodate her request. I sit there all quiet, still being blinded by the bloody sun and thinking about me dinner. Well my inner warrior, decides that now is the time to tear herself from whatever slaying she is doing elsewhere and bless me with her presence.

The even smaller person starts kicking off and though their Dad is doing his best to calm it down, the older bird cannot hide her miserable judgey self. At first, she starts glancing up at the family disapprovingly but then she openly glares at them, starts shaking her head and starts tutting away and that’s, when my inner Warrior (Shelly) puts in an appearance.

Unfortunately Shelly didn’t have to much time to amuse herself with the miserable bird as the next stop was ours and as I mentioned before, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mr C was knocking up for dinner. Obvs we wasn’t going to stay quiet though. I purposely walk to the front even though it wasn’t the closest exit and said to misery “what do you expect, it’s just a baby” to which she replies “mind your own business.” Now I know, the mature thing to do, would have been to shake my head in disappointment and hope that misery would reflect on her behaviour and realize she’s being a bitch. I didn’t do that. I smiled at the family, said thank you to the bus driver and called misery a “judgey cow” as I stepped off the bus.

Do you know what, I don’t even like kids, they make me itch and tbh I don’t care for anyone who can’t buy a round but this miserable woman proper got on my tits (not literally), was a horrible person and was obviously making the Mum and Dad feel uncomfortable and thought she was for some delusional reason, superior.  We taught her eh.

In other news: Mr C continues to hold onto a distinction on his MBA and though it’s not the same as my now amazing hip-hop dance skills, I do have to give credit where it’s due.

 

 

 

 

Judgy Bitch!

Have you ever tried to be one of those lovely decent human beings who don’t judge themselves or others? Well after reading a lovely book called The Four Agreements I decided that from now on, I will not judge other people and indeed myself. However, saying and sticking to this agreement is mad hard (is that just me or what? Is it a terrible personality trait? Omg I am a terrible human being!!! Fuck, now I’m judging myself argh).

So off I went with this delightful thought in my head and sunshine firing out me bum; I was off to ‘Wine Wednesday’ to meet a bunch of strangers I’d met on Facebook (don’t judge). I get on the bus, which is busy and see that some guy is sat in the very middle of the back seat taking up much more room than he should be. I’ll show this fucker I thought and I did. I marched right to the back of the bus, gave a curt “excuse me” and plonked down into the seat, making sure I took up the exact amount of room that I was entitled to.

Once settled and resigned to the fact that the assignments the guy on the other side of me was marking were in French, I went back into me head to think about not judging. Now earlier that day I had witnessed a man not picking his dog poo up and according to my new angelic way of thinking, I was not to judge him. How can you not judge someone who does not pick up their dog’s poo?! It is just pure laziness, if you’re not going to pick up your dog’s poo, then you shouldn’t have one. It’s those fuckers who get us responsible families banned from beaches and parks, bunch of ****s (don’t want anyone judging me for using such a misunderstood word).

Okay so it can be difficult to not be judgy but not picking your dog poo up and man-spread on public transport is surely fair game right? I look around the bus at my fellow bus peeps with a big smile, radiating positivity and then you will never guess what I see; A Millennial gets on the bus, now baring in mind it was snowing and freezing here in Vancouver yesterday, this muppet was not wearing socks!!!!!! I know it’s a thing to not wear socks, it’s trendy and makes your Converse look cute but mate your feet must be freezing.

This is all proving to much for me and my non-judgy mind so I blank everyone out and go back into me head. I managed to remain there for all of five seconds until what I can only describe as the horrors of sweet overpowering Joop aftershave attacking my senses and breaking my blissful running through a flowery meadow vision. I open my eyes glare around the bus trying to work out who would do this. Non sock boy is still there, fuckin idiot, his feet must be blocks of ice by now.

As going into me head wasn’t working, I decided to be a normal person, put me head down and look at me phone. Wondering who else was going to be at the ‘Wine Wednesday’ I decide to check out the event details. Guess what…………………’Wine Wednesday’ is next week. Get off this bus you fuckin idiot!!!!