The Obvious Child

I am a psychopath.

No. I’m not really. I’m just one of the many modern females that is easily distracted by her life, her computer, the many fine looking males (and females) around her, the parties, the music (oh the music!), and the schedule of her life.

Here’s the thing though. I’m afraid I’m going to cry at rehearsal tonight. Because I’ve figured out What is Wrong with me. What has been wrong and why I have been acting erratically and doing bizarre stuff that makes me go “huh?” It’s always a Defeat when I do this. And I should know better by now. I always don’t want to mention it either. Because this is when I NEED NEED NEED more cooperation and understanding and also when admission of the Sad Fact of what I am will send all informed parties screaming for the hills and/or hanging around in non-helpful helpful ways when they need to not be. At precisely the wrong times. Which no one knows how to do because it is impossible to read my mind. Doesn’t THAT suck?

I have a Guest sleeping in my … Poolhouse. Yeah. A visitor in the cabana. They’re drinking all my vodka and spilling stuff on the sofas again. Yuck.

Okay. VERY unfortunate metaphor. I’d erase it but … oh, wait… this is MY blog and I’m crying because I’m a GIRL!!!!

I’m not crying. Okay. I am. I’m doing this bizarre thing where I’m laugh/crying. I could use a beer. That’s the last thing I need. I’m drinking coffee. I want a diet coke. I enjoy aspertame. If you don’t like it, there’s the metaphorical door.

I really do want a cocktail.

Actually, time has elapsed, and I’m NOT crying. I’m actually Tweet-back-and-forthing with Chad and Randall. And it’s nice to have family around. Things are getting better around here locally. It was good to go to breakfast with my sister-in-law and it was good to come home to my people online who are also my people in life-life. It felt good.

Why it has not become glaringly obvious to me that I’m “getting there” when I’m this way is beyond me. Like I said, these days are full of distractions.

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The Obvious Child

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