I work with some real bitches. It was only in the last year or so that I even heard of a "hoosier" (other than that basketball movie I never actually watched when I was 15) much less had to deal with these people on a daily basis.
I walk in my place of business just after the sun rises. The sky is just glowing the most beautiful shades of pink, sherbet orange, blue, and purple. By this point I've already (hopefully) consumed two cups of coffee, gotten most of the kids off to the bus stop without any yelling, and listened to at least one song that will get stuck in my head for the duration of the day. I walk in my place of business fresh and happy. With a smile and a strut, ready for the day.
Then I see The Bitches. I may or may not greet them HELLO!, generally depending on how long the alarm clock went off before I ACTUALLY awakened. The Bitches are sour and certainly past one's prime. These Bitches are bulging, droopy, slack, and petite. They truly define the term "Hoosier" for me on a daily basis. Well these Bitches just rub me the wrong way! They irk me! They make me want to say mean things when I just want to smile and la-de-dah my way through the next seven hours!
So The Bitches and I seem to play passive aggressive bullshit games and I hold in the things I want to say. I want to say SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU ARE NOT MY BOSS AND IF YOU WANT SOMETHING DONE THAT DAMN BAD JUST GODDAMN DO IT YOURSELF YOU SHRIVELED UP PRUNE!!!!!! But I don't. I smile and take silent pleasure in the fact that I probably bother them far more than they bother me...although chances are they are not up right now trying to explain this sick little situation to no one in particular.
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