Are you frequently irritable in the morning?

Do you often find yourself  disappointed when a particularly fantastic dreamworld you had created in your head comes crashing down when faced with actual reality?

Have you experienced periods of feeling vastly sorry for yourself for no reason or for made-up reasons or for reasons which are, really, overall in the vast scope of the WHOLE WORLD, totally  not good reasons?

Do you have a particular corner of your table that just attracts a pile and even when the pile is moved, another pile immediately grows back?

Have you found yourself full of the best of intentions to do something or even anything, INCLUDING something that might be REALLY NICE for someone and that would really make their day, and then  putting it off for weeks, months or even years?

Are you often so exhausted by all the plans for things you want to do that are in your head that you are too overwhelmed and give up even starting to do them but fret about them not being done, all the same?

Do you start a project, get about half-way through, and then give up or move on to another project which you will only partly complete?

Are you full of good ideas and yet when it comes to finding time to implement them, prefer instead to sit on your behind and stuff your face with chocolate while reading non-edifying fiction?

Would  you just rather stay at home than pretty much do anything that involves going out past, say, 7 p.m.?

Do you find yourself gaining the inevitable winter weight and then determine an exercise plan that you immediately follow for one day before giving up on?

If  you have answered yes to any of the above, then you, too, might be ME.  Being ME is a serious condition that (most probably) requires strict  professional medical attention and care.

If you or someone you know and/or love might be ME, please call now for more information on how to treat this serious illness.

Our operators are standing by now.

Remember, friends don’t let friends be ME.

Dear Man at the Post Office Who, Upon Watching MY PRECIOUS SON Cheerfully and Energetically Playing With His Fire Engine in the Post Office, Said “Imagine Spending the Next Twenty Years with That” To One of the Other Patrons,

A) BITE ME.

B)  You have obviously never had kids.

C) People said the same thing about YOu when YOU were that age.

D) People STILL say the same thing about you when they see you with your Significant Other.

E) BITE ME again.

Sincerely,

Mrs Fussy Crankypants

When the Fussy Crankypants first got married, Mrs Fussy Crankypants had a bike (named Clive, true story) and this bike lived on the balcony of the second floor apartment they had the dubious pleasure of renting.  Clive’s history with the Fussy Crankypants was very short-lived as he was soon thereafter lifted/pinched/stolen/heisted from said balcony.

Last Father’s Day, Mrs Fussy Crankypants just happened to decide that buying a bike for Mr Fussy Crankypants would be both a brilliant and an awesome gift as Mr FC was always talking about going for a bike ride.  So one day, Mrs Fussy Crankypants left him at home with The Tyrant while Mrs Fussy Crankypants took his car (Mrs FC’s car having a carseat in it) to the Big Evil Box Store That Shall Remain Nameless But that Starts With Wal and Ends With Mart and picked out a brand new bicycle and wheeled it up and paid for it and took it out into the parking lot and put it into the trunk except she didn’t do that part because as it turned out it wouldn’t FIT in the trunk and so therefore she stood around in the parking lot looking frustrated and sweaty (did she mention it was starting to rain?) until some nice man who just HAPPENED to be an avid cyclist parked his car two cars down and came down to help and just HAPPENED to have the right kind of tool in his car to be able to take the wheel off and get the bike in the trunk at last and got it home and into the shed (did she mention the rain?).

Upon getting the bicycle for Father’s Day, Mr FC was delighted but also not in that he did not like the super-cool retro designed bike that Mrs FC had chosen, claming it was “too hard” to pedal. (Whatever) And so the bike was exchanged, after a suitable waiting time, coordiation of schedules, cramming BACK into the car and also waiting for the Only Employee Who Could Sell a Bike to get back from vacation at the Big Evil Box Store That Shall Remain Nameless But that Starts With Wal and Ends With Mart. And also it was Tuesday in the fourth quarter of the new moon three weeks before the summer solstice. Probably.

After getting the Bike of His Dreams For Under $100, Mr FC then proceeded to ride the bike around the FC’s then-neighborhood non-stop. Or at least three times.

Following the Folly of the Big Move of the Fussy Crankypants’ this year, the bike took up permanent residence in the garage, waiting for happier weather in which to be ridden.

HOWEVER.

This past weekend, intent upon mischief and also possibly finding a warm place to sleep, one or several unknown miscreants broke into said garage and proceeded to sleep in a warm place and/or  lift/pinch/steal/heist Mr FC’s erstwhile and ill-fated bicycle.

Therefore, vagrants and general miscreants in the city of This Fair City are hereby warned and notified that the Fussy Crankypants are no longer under any compulsion to offer succour (or hand-outs) to said down-and-outers as they have just made a $100 non-tax-deductible donation in your honor.

You have no house, the FCs have no bicycle.   That just about evens the score, right?

Dear Work:

Please go away and leave me alone.

Sincerely,

Mrs FussyCrankypants

P.S.  You may continue the remittance of funds.