Good Moms Don't Slap Bitches

Even with the hubbub about not posting insulting things about people, a subject surrounding "A Post You Regret Posting" a writer's prompt by Mama Kats Writer's Workshop. I am still going to post this, because even if this crazy bitch figures out the internet AND finds her way to my blog, I'm pretty sure she isn't literate enough to read or understand this.
Do you ever just want to slap someone?

I admit that living on the street for several years makes me more likely to hit people than, say, your grandmother. But I am now an adult, with adult responsibilities, and I take those responsibilities very seriously. But that doesn't  mean the overwhelming urge to smack people doesn't manifest itself.
I just don't understand some people.
And you know what, I realize that alcoholism is a disease. I just think at some point, you have to be responsible for your own actions.

Shouldn't you be home, taking care of your kids, rather than standing on my front step, trying to coax me outside, when I've already told you I'm in bed?
I've tried, I've seriously tried. I know this chick is lonely, that she has nothing to do and no one to talk to. She's okay when she's sober.
I've brought her food, because I know her and her kids only eat microwavables. I've asked her opinion on things to make her feel like the banal shit that comes out of her mouth actually means anything. I've spent a whole lot of my valuable kids-sleeping time listening to her talk about whatever, reassuring her things will be okay, and putting up with pointed looks that say she thinks I am the idiot.

So when last night, she came knocking on my door, drunk, I told her it was 11 at night, the kids were in bed and I was going to go to bed soon. I said I'd see her tomorrow and said goodbye.
30 minutes later, she knocked again. Huffing and puffing about me coming out to hang out on the steps and chat. I told her again, firmer this time, that I was going to bed and she should too.
30 minutes later came another knock. I ignored it. It came louder. I ignored that one too. Finally (when I thought she was going to wake up the kids) I went to the door and told her I was absolutely not coming out. She yelled at me and called me a bitch, I told her that she was the bitch because she obviously didn't know what the word, "no" meant.

This went on for however long... and it's not the first time. The first time I think I was closer to beating her to death, but it was also 12... 1... and 2 in the morning after finally getting the kids to bed Halloween night.
I worry about the kids. (Not mine, they would survive being woken up in the middle of the night) But hers. I'm guessing she's been a drunk for a while, which means their young childhoods were probably filled with this kind of bullshit. But I digress.

So, like I've said before, I used to live a very different life. One in which it would have been perfectly acceptable to beat the holy living shit out of this chick. Actually, it would have been the recommended course of action.
But I'm trying to live a different life, and getting arrested for an assault charge isn't on an approved list of activities people with my current lifestyle participate in. If you catch my drift.
And it's SO hard.
I'm trying to think of solutions that don't include putting someone in the hospital; I don't want to call the cops or apartment managers. I don't want to tattle on someone, I just want out of this crap situation.
ARG!