Dishing the Dirt

We don’t often like to talk about it but most women have at least a little bit of a bitch in them. (Not that there is anything wrong with that.) You know those syrupy sweet women that work at your office or come to your book group? Guess what? They are probably the biggest bitches of all.

Take me for example, I’m such a bitch that I literally can’t be myself in public. I have to be a smiling, friendly, sweet woman who is always willing to help because if I wasn’t wearing that persona my day would go a lot bumpier. Make no mistake though, I am one trigger away from revealing my true self at any point in time.

My coworkers call themselves s.p.i.s. I don’t know if this is a thing other people say. I’ve never heard it before. It stands for sweet, pure, and innocent, They have called themselves this multiple times in my presence. They agree that our other coworker is not a spi because she is blunt and abrasive at times, pretty much all the time. She is awesome. They further agree that I am the spieist spi that ever there was.


I am no spi. I may be a spy. They should know who they are dealing with. Honestly, I should tell them. I hope they never find out first hand. I am telling you though. Consider it a warning. That woman that wears cat shirts and knits, she has an inner rage that is so sharp it could cut a bitch. Watch how you talk to her and always, always stay at least one arms length away.

I didn’t get to where I am by being a sweetheart or a chump. And by where I am I mean alive. I am not a victim. Bad things have happened to me and I have used them to make me strong. It’s made me wise. It’s made my skin tough and my teeth sharp. 

Everything I have I earned. My house. My husband. My car. My credit score . My mediocre level of career success.  My college degree. It’s not much but it’s mine and I got it by myself. I’m still a little behind where I should be but I am so much closer than I was. I have been on my own, basically since I was 14. I had to do some things the hard way. I didn’t graduate from college until I was 28 years old. And I didn’t have to strip or prostitute myself to do it either. 

Although every month when I make my student loan payments I wish I had. 

So yeah, I may look sweet. That’s my default setting. I am sweet. I want to be sweet. I’d like it if you’d be sweet to me but I don’t need it. Just don’t start no shit and there will be no shit. 

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11 thoughts on “Dishing the Dirt”

  1. “That woman that wears cat shirts and knits, she has an inner rage that is so sharp it could cut a bitch.”

    You don’t lie. You are amazing.
    How does one get from s.p.i. to b.i.t.c.h? Is there a course I could take?

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I agree with all the above! I’m the passive agressive bitch. The petty side of me thinks you should let them experience it first hand. But the part of me that doesn’t want other people’s static interrupting my flow, agrees with you staying silent. Voyerism is hella fun when you know shit. Your transparency is what makes this blog a joy to visit. Thank you.


  2. Lol!
    I too am a bitch who use to hide it in public behind a fake smile. When I hit 56 and retired full time, my true self came out in full force. I am happier now than I have ever been. No more hiding behind makeup, hair, clothes, etc., this is the real me and if you don’t like it then fuck off!! BTW I also have resting bitch face. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

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