I Confess...

I do my best to be a good person. I try in earnest to keep bad thoughts out of my head; especially when they are about other people. I try to be polite. I try to be nice and make nice. My mother taught me to bite my tongue anytime I felt the need to say something mean about others. She also worked to instill a sense of class and decorum within me. For the most part, I think I'm successful. However, there are split second moments when such bad moments make brief appearances in my life...

• I ordered my first Pina Colada of the day at the resort. The bartender, simply smiled and said, "Oh, already? You're my first alcoholic beverage of the day." A veil of shame fell over me.
• Under the Hawaiian sun and beneath the cloudy judgement of pina coladas, I ranted a little too long about the ex to other Doc wives. (However, I will say this ultimately worked to my benefit.)
• I gave all the other Doc wives holy hell (again, while under the influence, thanks to another Doc Wife who introduced me to Smirnoff Pineapple vodka) for not showing up to a reception and leaving me there with their husbands and dry conversation. As if I'm really interested in how the equipment in the OR should be reorganized or how this hospital or that hospital has an extra three feet in their OR and we don't.  I was the only spouse there. The other Doc Wives informed me it was not open to spouses, but "Thanks for representing." Thanks, Doc H.
• I spewed at beach boy, Rico, "Maui really needs to repeal its 'no alcohol on the beach' ordinance!"
• As I slipped on my brand new Prada's, I could only think,  "the devil wears Prada- take THAT, you bee-atch!"

Thank you! I feel lighter, better. I feel as if I'm just emerging from the confessional booth at church. Maybe I should grab my beads...