Dear Diary....I'm really just a cuddly kitty cat

Dear Diary,

I write to you this evening in great despair.  I was called a hater.  Asked if I wanted hateraid.  It just breaks my heart to hear such vile things.  Why am I so misunderstood?  I mean I have a great, big, soft, fluffy, warm heart.  I mean my heart is so big it keeps me from being a hater, for example:
When I went to get gas today and the horrible immigrant at the station refused to go to the side of the window where I sit, making me stretch out and manually open the window from the passenger side, I didn't flip him the finger, my great big heart didn't let me.  When he grinned in satisfaction of my discomfort, I smiled.  When again he walked to the passenger side and tapped on the window to give me my change and I had to lean over and manually open the window, I did not say the things I should have....'YOU FU_CKING IMMIGRANT, YOU SCUM BAG! You think I don't remember you and your sadistic way of making American woman suffer at this station.  Go back to your FU_CKING country if you hate our liberation!'  No....I did not, I merely took the change saying in a small voice 'MORON!'

Diary, I am no hater, my heart does not allow me.  When I went to the store to get milk and the lady behind me mumbled something about my taking too long to put my items on the counter, my heart...it did not let me say what I should have 'LISTEN YOU FU_CKING HAG, if you're in THAT much of a hurry go on the other line before I put my foot up your ASS and shove you there.'  No....I did not, I merely turned and smiled, saying in a small voice 'I'm sorry, there is only a small space on the counter, perhaps you will have more luck placing your attitude on it.'

Oh but Diary nothing proves my loving way more than what my co-workers did today and I simply smiled (OK, maybe not simply).  I mean, who does what she did?  Who takes a picture of me in the emergency room while in the middle of agony, pain and torment?  Who takes that picture and tucks it away so that many months later they can post it on face book???  My co-worker, that's who.

I mean, who does what he did?  Who takes that same picture and frames it into a matting that says 'Haters keep hatin'?  Of little me in a wheelchair with bandaged knee??? Who Diary??  They do!  But do I open a can of FU_CKING WHOOP ASS???? No, I did not.  Did I go with my feeling and start BI_TCH SLAPPING them both???  No, I did not.  My great big heart did not let me.

I mean why Diary?  Why would they do that then call me a hater?  I am so misunderstood.

I mean.....I admit.....I tinkle just a bit at the thought that the plan I demised in my mind will be the vendetta of all vendettas!  That I must be patient and let time pass so that the element of surprise will make that vengeance even greater!  That Dumb and Dumber will lose their faith if they have it or gain it if they don't over this vengeance.  I mean....I admit, that may sound like a hater; but Diary, oh Diary, I say it with love.

I lovingly also say it is going to SU_CK to be those two!!!!!  My heart is so big that for a split second I actually felt pity.

Only you understand me Diary......just you....I'm really just a cuddly kitty cat.