Irritated

Some things that have pissed me off lately: (I'm just writing about them so I can let them go and move on)

Sitting with a friend in a coffee shop, she says, "That darn dog. He's making me lose more weight and I don't have it to lose."
Okay, it's true. She's lovely and slim and my age, but don't flaunt it. (JK if you read this, Leah. I'm just so jealous.)

We're changing auto insurance companies, and I have to drop some papers off at the office. I stopped by this morning at 10:15. The lights weren't on, but I thought maybe people were working behind a wall that separated the front.
The time on the door distinctly said "Hours: 9 a.m. to 6 p.m."
I went to the door and pulled. It was locked.
I went back to the car and called the number on the door. A woman in an office about half an hour away answered the phone. She didn't know why they weren't there.
I said I'd stop by later. That didn't make me mad, but the woman called back later and left a message to make sure I was at the right office. She said she had called the office and three men said they were there working.
Now that made me mad. If they weren't in...whatever.
But don't lie about it to make me look like a liar.

Doctor bills and insurance
Grace's voice teacher says she has lost some range and wanted her to have her vocal cords looked at by an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist. She makes the appointment and I go along to pay.
Our insurance charges a $40 co-pay for specialists.
In the appointment, the doctor wants to do a scope of her vocal cords, which means putting a camera in her mouth while she sings.
Grace is freaked out by this, so they get about 20 seconds of video.
They don't see anything wrong, so we leave.
A 10-minute doctor visit.
Then we get the bill. The total bill is $1700.
Our part is only $650 because insurance adjusts some of it.
I  spent yesterday on the phone with the doctor's office and the insurance company, but other than be mad, there's nothing I can do except hope for single-payer insurance someday in the near future, or move to France where the medical costs are reasonable.

Hopefully I'll feel better now and put this all behind me.

Mad

Today I'm feeling mad. Mad as in angry. Not mad as in crazy.
Two main reasons are making me mad:

Maybe I need a drink so I won't be so angry

1. Small town gossip. I know, I grew up in a small town, but not quite this small. So an after-prom party had alcohol and I got a call from one of the parents Sunday morning. Her oldest is a sophomore and she was apalled. I had to kind of talk her down. Then, somehow, I got the blame for telling people about alcohol at the party, which meant Tucker got blamed for telling me, which he didn't. All of those senior girls in their beautiful prom dresses (see the prom post from Saturday) blamed Tucker for ratting them out and Tucker had "the worst day ever." Parents who believe high school parties won't have alcohol are just naive.
2. Writing. I'm reading books that I keep putting down because they aren't very good, and then I can't believe that my books aren't published. What's the deal? I'm not saying my books are masterpieces, but I think I can give many of these books a run for their money.
A writing instructor at one of the colleges where I work is reading my novel. She has lovely things to say like, "I'm fully engaged" and "I can picture this." Then yesterday she says that to get published my manuscripts need to "have some bite," which I interpreted as snarky and sarcastic, or they have to be so intelligent that people bow down in amazement at how smart the author must be.
And I said, "Who wants to read books like that?"

Maybe I need to go to France with Grace and eat crepes

I'm writing escapist books with fun plots that deal with emotional issues most people face. Why? Because that's what I like to read.
So why are these things making me mad?
Well, a few weeks ago, I told Earl that I might be entering menopause so I'd be more irritable than usual. I was only using that as an excuse so that I could tell him to stop reading sections of the newspaper to me while I was trying to work.
Now that I'm feeling so mad about everything, I wonder if those words aren't true. Maybe everything gets under my skin because I'm starting menopause. Or maybe that's just my excuse du jour.
Show me that I'm not alone. Tell me what makes you mad?