Why Is It ...

... that nobody remembers that before the internet we thought the cause of stupidity was the lack of access to information but now we know that wasn’t it.

… that I still don’t understand how people my age can have children. I am children.

… that my co-workers have yet to learn that I am two scoops of grumpy in a bowl of bitchy every single morning.

… that alcohol doesn’t solve your problems but then neither does milk so pour me a drink 

… that no one remembers that I talk a lot of smack for someone who tiptoes in the 5-foot end of the pool for fear I’ll drown.

… that everybody needs to know that I will separate glitter before I let your opinion of me stress me out.

… that I wake up everyday in a room-sized bed, and then I am gently lifted from the covers and dressed in a warm cozy sweater while my favorite foods are brought to me, and that I have no job and no bills and no responsibilities and suddenly I realize I am a chihuahua and I am filled with rage.

… that people often forget that while I am not a 10 at the beach I am a 10 at Walmart

… that people don’t know that I have reached the age where my train of thought often leaves the station without me.

… that I get stuck thinking that soy milk is just regular milk introducing itself in Spanish.

… that no one ever recognizes me in my Halloween costume? Is it because I go out as Emotionally Stable?

Why Is It ...

… that most people don’t realize that when I say I hope we can be more than friends, I mean we can be strangers.

… that some people tell you I’m the nicest person they’ve ever met and some people say I am a bitch? Well, believe them both because they got the version they deserved.

… that while an apple a day keeps the doctor away, it also keeps most people away if you throw it hard enough.

… that my co-workers have yet to learn that “Fuck that shit” is a perfectly acceptable substitution for “No.”

… that when life feels extra rough I ask myself, “Did you poop your pants,” and if the answer is No then I’m still winning.

… that the other day when a co-worker told me they were mad at me I suggested they slip on a cape so they can be SuperMad.

… that no one is laughing at the Amish anymore? Is it because they’re the ones clickety-clacking right past every gas station?

… that my To-Do List always includes barking up the wrong tree, putting all my eggs in one basket, judging a book by its cover, rocking the boat, and add fuel to the fire.

… that while my mind still think I’m 25, my body says my mind is dumb.

… that when I can’t sleep I tend to think of things like, how many vampires have been run over by people who back up only using their mirrors?

Why Is It ...

… that when I tell people to pray for Carlos it’s not because there’s something wrong; it’s just that he married me and I’m a lot.

… that people don’t get it that I want to be invited but I won’t be coming.

… that when I’m feeling good I go to my blocked lists on social media and release one of two prisoners.

… that I can endure a lot of things at work without losing my cool, but having one of my “best pens” go missing is not one of them.

… that opening the microwave door 1 second early because I don’t need the hootin’ and hollerin’ is a form of self-care.

… that people seem to forget that I am Fucktose Intolerant and am completely unable to tolerate other people’s bull shit.

… that when Aphrodite lies around naked in a clamshell she’s a goddess, but when I do it, they call me a drunk and ban me from the aquarium.

… that no one remembers that I am not the bigger person; if you take it there, trust and believe that I am going way past that.

… that I’ve been having just two moods lately … IDGAF and IDGAF Part 2, now with extra attitude.

… that when the newscaster says shark-infested waters during a shark bite report, I shriek, “Sharks don’t infest the waters, THEY LIVE THERE!!!!!”

Why Is It ...

… that I am as swift as a gazelle … an old one … with arthritis … run over by a Land Rover … seven days ago.

… that I am not weird, but I am simply a Limited Edition. Kidding, I’m weird AF.

… that I don’t have a train of thought … I have seven trains on four tracks that narrowly avoid each other when their paths cross and all the conductors are screaming.

… that people need to remember that I have a soft heart and a savage mouth; I’m like a Hallmark card written by Gordon Ramsay.

… that when people disagree with me I generally say, ‘Nice argument, unfortunately, your mama,’ and then I saunter away.

… there is nothing better than hearing friends say, ‘We never see you around.’ I mean, I know, I make sure of it.

… that when people ask me if I run, I say out of patience , money and good decisions.

… that no one realizes I have three basic moods: IDK, IDC, IDGAF and it’s a daily spin-the wheel situation.

… that when I’m drunk I forget I’m shy and I suddenly become the CEO of Chaos, giving life advice to strangers like I’ve got a PhD in bad choices.

… that the idea that someone looked at a purple onion and named it a red red onion really irks me

…. that I seek restraining orders on anyone not wearing deodorant.

Why Is It ...

… that people don’t realize that I am actually kind of funny  and loving once you get past the 19 walls I put up.

… that when my boss told me I was all out of vacations days, I told him to sign me up for maternity leave.

… that y’all need to know that I have tried shutting up and found that it wasn’t for me.

… that people don’t understand that they shouldn’t send me mixed signals. I never even get the direct ones.

… that many times I get road rage walking behind people in grocery stores.

… that as I grow older I realize that stretching is not an option. I need to remove my spine and wring it out like a damp towel.

… that today, while I’m choosing kindness, y’all need to remember that it’s still early.

… that, while I am not bragging, I will share that my posts are enjoyed by well over three people worldwide.

… that after venting I sometimes sit back and think, “I should have kept that to myself.”

… that I am not built for anybody who’s soft. I’m mean, I talk back, I don’t listen and sarcasm is my first language.

Why Is It ...

… that people don’t get it that I don’t waste time Googling song lyrics; I sing what I hear ... ♪♫ Dancing queen, young and sweet only seven teeth.♫♪

… that my mood has so many swings it’s a park now.

… that they ask you to be at the airport three hours before your flight but they won’t tell you what gate to go to until the very last minute.

… that, at this point, if a clown invited me into the woods alone, I would just go.

… that my social skills include: 1] laughing when I shouldn’t laugh; 2] telling jokes in awkward situations; and C] saying ‘You too’ when the waiter tells me to enjoy my dinner.

… that you need to know that before you judge me, I don’t care.

… that when someone tells me I look familiar, I say, “I don’t even go outside, why are you lying?”

… that I need an app that deletes my number from other people’s phones.

… that no one understands that if you think I’m mean now, wait until I don’t like you.

… that controlling my facial expressions has to be the toughest battle I fight every day.

Why Is It ...

… that I haven’t been able to teach my body that the fight or flight response is supposed to be for life or death situations, and not answering an email.

… that whenever I see two people arguing online I believe whoever spells correctly.

… that blocking someone on social media isn’t enough; I want them to have lice.

… that every so often I burn sage in the house and then I pass out because I’m the negative energy

… that when life gives me lemons I just eat them whole; I choke that lemon down … skin, pulp, pith, seeds, and all. And I don’t break eye contact with the lemon. I figure life will stop being a bitch if I show it that I am done fucking around.

… that no one seems to be aware that, for me, the lack of coffee may cause memory loss and sometimes memory loss.

… that it took me this long to realize I have just Three Moods: What the Fuck? Are you Fucking kidding me? And Fuck this.

… that those who like my social media posts are happier, more intelligent and better looking than those who don’t … according to a study I made up in my head.

… that being human is sometimes so miserable that I’d rather be a baby hippo who is allowed to bite everyone.

Why Is It ...

… that when someone asks me if I’m ‘okay,’ I say, ‘Absolutely not, but I’m funny.’

… that I hate getting mad? Is it because it takes me two-and-a-half-years to calm down?

… that no one understands I am only social on Facebook; do not come bothering me in real life.

… that I want to live my life to the fullest, but I also want to be in bed by 9?

… that I understand being a responsible adult, but every day … every … single … day … seems a little excessive.

… that no one realizes that I am that age where I won’t make eye contact with someone because they look like a talker?

… that even though my work week finishes up by Friday, in reality I’ve emotionally given up by Wednesday?

… that if you want to make a moron’s head explode, all you have to do is ask them to spell ‘there.’ And when they ask you to use it in a sentence, say, ‘Their car is parked over there and they’re late.’

Why Is It ...

… that everyone needs to know that you don’t come to my house unannounced because I will just stare at you from my window.

… that when it’s nearly midnight and I remember that the sheets and duvet cover are still in the dryer, I think it’d be easier just to book a hotel for the night?

… that no one wants to rehome me. I mean, I’m tired of adulting and I’m housebroken, so what’s the issue?

… that I can be social for like three minutes but then I don’t wanna talk to anyone for four days?

… that people who tell me that I need to relax don’t know that the best I can do is dissociate?

… that my favorite colors are Black. Dark Black. Pitch Black. Pastel Black, Light Black. And Faded Black. Is it because they match my mood?

… that people often mistake me for an adult? Is it because of my age?

The Blah-plosion

So, I have been Blah, and as I said yesterday, Carlos, very empathetically, told me to:

“Change your mood.”

Then for that whole day, he’d ask if I was still feeling ‘blah,’ while wearing a little smirk on his face. At one point he suggested I take a walk, and I said a walk isn’t the cure, or the answer; these are feelings that I need to work through and you cannot walk or wish them away. And he said:

“Well, I’m really getting tired of the blah-sy attitude.”

Cue Blah-plosion.

I let him have it because, while the blahs are hard to explain, him saying that to me pissed me off, and mama ain’t happy when she’s pissed off. I told him, that had he come to me and said he was feeling blah, or depressed, or anxious, or worried, the first words out of my mouth would have been:

“Can I do anything to help?”

I told him it wasn’t the virus, and it was the virus; it wasn’t not going to work and it was not going to work; it wasn’t the animals, but it was; it wasn’t him but it was; it was the sunshine; it was nighttime; it was everything and nothing. It was my Dad, and my worry about him 3,000 miles away.

But what it was that pissed me off was his blasé attitude about it. There are the rare times Carlos and I actually fight, a lot of loud angry words, a lot of airing of feelings, and a lot of apologies … from his side.

I again explained that this is not something you can wish, walk, or help away; it needed to be worked through, in my way, at my pace. Again, he apologized and I told him just be a little more compassionate; I told him I know he takes everything too personally and that he felt I was angry at him because of my mood. I said:

“Twenty years and you still don’t think when I have a problem with you, I don’t tell you?”

And we kinda laughed, and let it go, and this morning, the blackness lifted a little, and so I told him maybe yelling at him was the answer.

It’s not, but hopefully he got the message, and when this happens again, and it will, though it’s a once or twice a year thing, and usually lasts about three days, he might be more understanding.

If not … I’ll yell. Maybe it’ll work again.

PS Thank you all for your kind words yesterday. They meant a lot.