beat me up, Scottie

I am kind of grouchy

     My own fault.
     I have been eating too much and exercising too little lately.  That's a bad combination.  I am afraid I have screwed up the losses I had made since Switzerland.  Now I am beating myself up for my lack of will power.
     I also make some bad decisions.
     I had a zoo day and when there, I am supposed to wear zoo clothing.  When I went to lunch, I grabbed a coat just to keep me warm until I walked to the nearest restaurant, which was about 2 minutes away.
     The coat was a medium.  It did not zip, but I could pull it almost shut.  It was ok for a 2 minute walk.
     Except that restaurant is on winter hours, which means it is closed.  So I had a 5 minute walk.  I was frozen when I got there.  Plus, the place was packed with school groups, so I had to eat my lunch at the only available tables....which were outside.  In the freezing cold.  With a too small jacket.  That I could not hold closed because I needed both hands for the food.
     I'm still not warm.
     On the drive home I was impressed by the stupidity of my fellow humans.      One guy was driving a  rental truck, was behind me, passed me on the left, then pulled in front of me and hit his brakes so he could move over 2 lanes for his exit.
     And  two guys were either in a road rage incident or racing each other to see who could get home first.  Both of them were weaving back and forth across four lanes of traffic.  Last I saw  they were side by side on a one lane exit ramp.
     Then I stopped for supper.  I specifically told the girl NO PLASTIC WARE!  I was polite but emphatic.  When the guy was packing my order, he put in two forks and spoons.  I politely asked him to take them out.
     I wonder how many people who order take out need plastic spoons and forks?  Are they eating in their cars?  Or motel rooms?  If I am eating at home, I sure as hell am not using those dinky little forks.
     And I got a little girl in trouble.  (Not that kind, pervs...she was little).  She was playing with blocks and animals and threw one of the animals to her brother.  She said, "Flying giraffe!"  I laughed.  She smiled at me and did it again.  "Flying elephant!"  I laughed again.
     She proceeded to pelt her brothers with every animal she could pick up, despite her mother telling her to stop.  I did not laugh anymore, but the tone was set.
     After about 437 flying animals,  mom sort of lost it.  What ever she said to the girl, while gripping both arms tightly and getting within an inch of her ear, was effective because all animals were carried from that point on.
     If I hadn't laughed, she might not have gotten the positive reinforcement and not continued her aerial assault.
     Me bad.
Peace and Love