I'm doing my best, y'all. I have hormonal drama, I go to the gym. I have singer drama, I post my rant, and I go to the gym. I try not to blame too many other people for my own problems, I try to ask for help when I need it, I try to help others out when I can. And I go to the gym.
But may the good Lord give me strength, I nearly ran over whole crowds of tweeny-boppers who were clogging the sidewalk, listening to their iPods and texting and walking in huge groups as to completely block the whole sidewalk and the grassy area between the sidewalk and the street, so I practically had to leap out into traffic to avoid running into these kids, and they are so clueless SO ABSOLUTELY CLUELESS that they look at me like I'm an axe murderer when I'm about to run into them and they finally look up from their Sidekick.
I like kids. I babysit for my friends' kids. I coo and google at babies and toddlers. I have changed diapers, I have cleaned up vomit, I have been a camp counselor and a teacher and a music director for high school kids. So why do I feel more like Miss Hannigan than Grace Farrell when I see these sullen children with their bellies hanging out and their dangling headphones blocking my path? I'm just trying to get my run on. I know they have their own universe of pre-teen drama, I remember that and, unfortunately, there are pictures to remind me if I get too righteous.
Didn't your momma tell you to be courteous on the street? If she didn't, I will happily hook her up with Miss Jean and they can have a prayer meeting about that.
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