My mood today is one of the above - depends on who you ask.  Weird though that in my head I'm happy and having a great time on the recipe thread, but when real life people speak to me I get all metaphorically stabby.

You guys are total strangers so I'm sure I can trust each of you with my most shameful secret:  I'm not a good person.  I'm selfish, spoiled*, and either dangerously relaxed or way too tightly wound...whichever is the least helpful for the situation that's what I will be.

*spoiled thing is a residual holdover from childhood, like a prehensile tail...now that I have nothing it's a very inconvenient personality trait.

My headship got s new car this week.  

He needed one because this old SUV has been plotting against us ever since the warrantee ran out.  It would lie in wait for the worst time financially and then break down requiring several grand in tribute to resume taking him to work.  It looked normal on the surface but inside it was apparently filled with evil sprites and it needed to go.  

He got something economical, cut a great deal and made a good financial choice.  It also happens to me a car that he just loves and is beyond happy.  He deserves this - he's always had the more boring ride since we've been together.  But the kids are older and we no longer need a giant SUV to haul crap everywhere from track meets to cheer camp so for the first time in decades he's enjoying himself.

I'm fucking jealous.  I know - I'm a monster.  But I love his new car so much it's making me kind of hate him and his damn happiness.

(maybe all the evil didn't leave when we off loaded the old SUV?)

So now I feel guilty for being so petty and a little like I'm being disloyal to my car by coveting his.  I don't do well with human friends so I develop relationships with my cars and computers that maybe aren't technically healthy.  That's between me and my future therapist.  I loved my car.  We just met last April and she's nothing fancy or impressive, but she sure was to me.  Everything I could want and fit me like the perfect pair of jeans.  And now I can't stand to look at her because she's not ...Spike.  That's the name of his new car because mine is Buffy and he didn't listen to me when I explained that she wasn't named after the Slayer...but he refuses to name it Jody.

actually he doesn't refer to cars by their given names, he apparently doesn't think they are sentient, but he doesn't want me calling it Jody.

Anyway every once in a while I'm completely blown away but what a total and irredeemable ungrateful bitch I am and this is one of those days.