Pardon the Interruption
It is one of my greatest pet peeves to be interrupted. I think it is the rudest thing on the planet, because it makes the person talking feel as if what they have to say is not important. I am sure this was ingrained in me by my mom, who would start to tell a story, be interrupted by my dad, and then refuse to tell the rest of the story to punish him for his rudeness. I have latched onto this idea.
Today, I was watching some show about cars, and they were building a hot Mustang for Jason Giambi. So I was watching it, being able to overlook the fact that he is juiced up in order to appreciate the fact that he is hot, and a Yankee. Anyway, Hub comes in the room and changes the channel. I say, "what are you doing?" He says, "you are watching this?" I said "yeah, they are building a..." "Gypsy get off the couch!" Hub interrupts so rudely. So I stop talking. He doesn't even notice! He has no idea that I was in the middle of a sentence and has no idea what I did not get to say, and HE DOES NOT CARE. So, my mood turns from my usual charming Jersey Girl self into a Jersey Broad you don't want to mess with.
Then Hub tells me I have alot of anger inside. Duh.
Its Sunday, which leaves only 5 days till I get to go out and have good times with Patsy and hopefully Springer and Jen. I can't wait. Friday cannot get here fast enough.