I still have filters.

My abilities to filter my speech and to endure bullshit have been extremely diminished over the last 6 months. I'm not exactly rude, but I have no time for dancing around subjects when I'm dealing with people. Like the lady at Dairy Queen. Blunt. Somewhat inappropriate. And generally not giving a shit as long as I accomplish my intended purpose.

Aside: Before he got hurt, I rarely asked businesses about military discounts. If it wasn't publicly posted, I let it go. Now, though, I want my husband to know just how many people and businesses care about him and appreciate what he's done. I couldn't care less if we save $2 at Dairy Queen.

Anyway, I still have a few filters left. This is a good thing. Instead of saying things out loud, I will share some of my mental conversations with you here.



To the woman who lives on the second floor and carried her furniture up the stairs to her apartment:

I understand that you have a handicap placard and I also understand that there are invisible disabilities. I also understand, however, that the only fucking advantage for parking in those spots in front of our building is the ramp. Oh, and the little extra space to get the wheelchair out of the car. Really, it's about the space at this point. But you repeatedly choose to park in the handicap spot that is FURTHER AWAY from the building entrance because you have that little fucking placard and by god you're entitled to park there. You've stared at my husband, stood outside my bedroom window at night yelling up the stairs to your partner, and swiped the spot while he was sitting there waiting for me to pick him up. I don't know what your fucking problem is, but you're a sad, pitiful, ugly excuse for a human being. At this point, I'm going to stop fighting you for the space. I will leave it open for you, because if you can stare down a one legged man in a wheelchair as you park in the space and then run up the stairs, you obviously need it more than us.



To the other people in our apartment building who have handicap placards:

Again, I understand that there are invisible disabilities. However (HUGE FUCKING COMMA) there is absolutely no advantage to parking in the handicap spots unless you need a ramp or space for a wheelchair. Since one of you walks over a mile to work every day (sometimes leaving your car in the handicap space when you go) and the others of you walk the entire apartment property daily for exercise, you don't fucking need it. I do appreciate that you try to leave one space open for us, but obviously we can't use it because of the bitch on the second floor.

I'm not going to argue whether you are disabled and deserve the placard. I don't know your issues. But my husband obviously has the greatest need and common damn courtesy would dictate that you let him have the fucking space.



To the lady who was waving her arms around like a maniac behind me when I was going one mile below the speed limit for about a hundred yards on post:

I'm sorry I didn't speed up as quickly as you wanted me to. In case you were wondering, I was suddenly overwhelmed with wondering what my husband's screams were like when he saw the blood gushing out of his stump after he was blown up. I fell in a mental hole for a minute. Forgive me.



To the PT student who sometimes helps out my husband:

Quick fucking flexing everywhere. This is not about you. Shut up and listen and stop fucking preening.



To the air force medical student in the commissary who walked the entire store talking loudly on his cell phone:

No one is impressed by you. Medical MOS basic training does not make you a bad ass. And about how when you deploy, you'll stay on a FOB because you're not dumb enough to have an MOS that takes you outside the wire makes me want to punch you in the face. You're making an ass of yourself in front of WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Desert Storm, OIF and OEF veterans. You have not earned anything yet, so hang up the phone and shut your mouth before you embarrass yourself any more. And even if you do luck out and stay on a FOB if you eventually deploy, you're going to be treating men and women who have the guts to leave it. You would do well to stop thinking of them as stupid and give them the respect they deserve. One day you may earn respect as well, but you haven't yet. So save your phone conversations with your mama or your girlfriend or your kid sister for when you're not in public. They're the only ones who are impressed with your AIT stories anyway.



Holy crap it felt good to let that go. I'm glad I have some filters left or I might end up in some altercations. Anybody wanna bail me out?