Free Therapy

So, I may have found an appropriate outlet to express my perspectives of the world around me. Hello Blog-o-sphere! I am an average girl dealing with not-so-average problems, namely cancer, cervical cancer to be precise.
I've been told that my work anecdotes have been blog-worthy, so I am hoping my sick girl rants will be just as entertaining.
I'll start with yesterday's adventure- the post-radiation trip to WalMart. You know those pictures people post on FB of weirdos at Walmart? Yeah, I am pretty sure they were all from Hamilton, and that they were all there yesterday. And they brought their douchebag cousins just to piss me off.

**side note** Having cancer is like having the worst form of PMS all of the time. Always. I'm an impatient asshole, but have managed to keep my surliness confined to an inner dialogue up until now, thankfully.

Anyway, back to Walmart douchebags. I only went to Walmart to buy the things I needed to look after the hemerrhoids that cancer has bequeathed to me (thanks a heap, cancer). I am cranky. My butthole hurts. I just want to get in, grab my preparation 8, my baby bumbum wipes, and get out. Simple, yes? No, no it isn't. You want to know why? Because someone is incessantly standing the fuck in my way while I am trying to get to the butt aisle I need. Seriously? Did you not know that you weren't supposed to position your cart horizontally so that NOT A SINGLE PERSON CAN PASS while you are deciding on which Lipton's Side Kicks you are going to treat yourself with this week? You are a moron. Move the fuck out of the way, and let me and my sore asshole get by. What I actually said was, "Excuse me," for which I was rewarded with a sigh and roll of the eyes. Lady, you need to go to shopping etiquette school. I'm going to start writing tickets for this kind of douchebaggery.