Q: What's bugging Sarah Palin today?

A: What day of the week is it?

Writer Vicki Iovine nails the quitter-in-chief in a marvelous piece for the Huffington Post.

Does Sarah wake up every day, reach for her specs, slip in her "Bumpit" and begin snorting around the media outlets like a truffle pig in search of the juicy fungus of persecution? It's like an itch that she scratches so often it has become a tic. Every slight is personal in the All About Me Universe of Alaska's Governor, Interrupted. Nothing is too random or private or just plain irrelevant for her to rush to Facebook with her righteous censure.

Just in case it wasn't clear from her book, Going Rogue, her skin is so thin that it's practically transparent. Nothing is her fault or worthy of private reflection. Let's face it folks, she and her family are pretty broad targets. If it's not her, it's her husband, her baby son or one of her daughters. None of us has a family above a dig here or a joke there, nor are we consistent examples of righteousness, but we are infinitely more relaxed about our imperfections. She wouldn't beg for a wedgie every time the class clown walked by if she weren't so delusional about her own perfection. Who can avoid, intentionally or not, taking a swipe at such a humorless and bitter prig? And who can fail to be bored blind (oh, God, I hope she doesn't take this as an attack on her own optical disability!)
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Life is short, Sarah. It is delicious, shocking and flawed. It's your choice: Revel in it or bitch it to death. But if you insist on choosing the latter, please, keep it to yourself. Nothing personal.