Today I am suffering a little bit from misanthropy. Maybe it is the fact that I am getting a little bit tired of having so many people around. Maybe I am just cranky. Who knows, but it is what it is.

Knowing this, I went to the grocery store at a time when I thought it would be less populated in order to pick up some corned beef. I was wrong. There were so many people there it was overwhelming. After being crushed, rushed, and cut off, I decided that there was not enough yumminess in corned beef to deal with it. I left empty handed.

On the way home, I texted my husband about my frustration and made an offhand comment about wanting another tattoo. His response was one of incredulity. “You mean, you want to get a tattoo because the people in Fry’s pissed you off?” It made me laugh– which helped to alleviate some of my frustration. Not enough to send me back in to the store to get corned beef, but still lifted my spirits.

Then I got to thinking about all of the reasons people have when they get a tattoo. Some do it out of boredom. Some out of a need for the rush from the pain. Others do it because they are highly intoxicated. This, of course, led me to introspection. I got my first tattoo to celebrate my anniversary and the great things that had come to my life. My second one was to remind me to keep faith and to try not to harm others with my behavior. Finally, my last one was a present to my hubby– the man who makes my life livable. I can tell the story behind each of my tattoos.

The story behind each one is essential. I just keep thinking, though, that it would be amusing to say to someone: “Well, I got it because I hated people that day.” It would be interesting to see the looks on their faces!