Eden M. Kennedy has acted impulsively in ways she now regrets.

This morning's scenario

Me: Sorry about being so grumpy last night.
Jack: Because your life is so hard.
Me: It had nothing to do with my life not being hard, it had to do with me being tired, and you accepting my apology and not making fun of me.
Jack: I . . . I can't do that.

This afternoon's scenario

Me: There's a parking spot!
Me: No, it's a driveway.
Me: Oop, there's one!
Me: You unbelievable wanker. You took two valuable parking spaces with that teeny wanker piece of shit, unconsciously, selfishly parked car, and I know that it's not one of those cases where somebody else parked badly and forced you into a tight spot, and then they left and now you look stupid, because you are parked at the end of the block! Don't you know how long your goddamned car is?
Me: My brain is swollen with unspeakable rage.
Me: Miles and miles of no parking spaces.
Me: It's so peaceful, driving around this slowly.
Me: I will now turn into this completely full and blocks away from my destination parking lot.
Me: Hey! It's that street kid girl who went behind the Dumpster with Parking Lot Blow Job Guy! Well, I must say, those are some very attractive Le Sportsac knock-offs you have your worldly belongings stuffed into, but do you have to repack it all while sitting . . . in that parking space? Yes? Okay, never mind.

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