What does it say about me that I love Sue Sylvester?

i just posted the following quote to my facebook status update:

"Oh Dear God, please, please, stop talking. I'm trying desperately to ignore the treacly sweet inanity of your asinine conversation but now I've got bile in my mouth and I will hold my tongue no further." -Sue Sylvester

How many times has this sentiment crossed my mind? How many? Is that okay? Am I a bitter, middle aged prude obsessed with a cheerleading team on the inside?

Here's a whole list of quotes that makes me love her all the more. Sigh. I'm going to copy the diary entry for you because I'm currently watching it...

Dear Journal, Feeling listless again today. It began at dawn, when I tried to make a smoothie out of beef bones, breaking my juicer. And then at Cheerios practice, disaster. It was unmistakable. It was like spotting the first spark on the Hindenburg. A quiver. That quiver will lose us Nationals. Without a championship, I'll lose my endorsements, and without those endorsements, I won't be able to buy my hovercraft.

Sick days, home sick, away without leave actually

I have the worst cold I've had since I was a kid. It makes me think of being a kid because of that and because my baby has it and I'm mothering a sick person, which I've never done and so I keep thinking about the only reference I have, my own mother. She mothered me when I was sick, obviously, and that happened when I was a kid. I would bring him 7-up but he's too small so I just stroke his head and whisper that I'm sorry he's sick. This reminds me of the fact that that's what my grandmother did when she came to visit my mom when my mom was dying. That is incredibly sad so, to lighten the mood, I'll tell the following story:

I walked down to the mailbox this morning to put my netflix movies in it and, had the garbage men come, to roll back up the garbage can. My 80+-year-old chatty neighbor was just getting out of his car as I walked back toward my house. When I got ready to open the door to go in, I turned to see him standing in his driveway facing me.

Me: [motions to throat]

Him: You don't have laryngitis do you!?!

Me: [clears throat and croaks] No, just a real sore throat.

Him: Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I noticed you've been home a lot. Does the baby have it too?

(My porch is approximately 50 yards from his driveway so I sort of have to shout.)

Me: He sure does.

Him: [cups hand near ear]

Me: [clears throat again] HE SURE DOES!

Him: [cups hand near ear again] I couldn't hear you. A plane was flying over.

Me: YES! YES, HE HAS IT TOO!!! [turns toward door]

Him: Well, I sure hope you feel better soon...

Me: THANKS! HAVE A GOOD DAY!!! [turns and goes into house]

Do you think that, by the time he asked me to repeat myself the second time, he had forgotten about the beginning of the conversation and my motion toward my throat? Or do you think maybe he forgot about how people shouldn't force people with sore throats to shout? Or maybe he is just that desperate to talk to someone besides his wife. It's hard to say.