I Love The Innernets...
...and hate the real world. Yesterday I saw a father watching his daughter play on the escalator in the mall. She was about three steps down and was attempting to go UP the DOWN escalator. I am guessing that she was about five or six years old. As she struggled to hop up the wrong way her father had the older brother (about eight or nine years old) go onto the escalator THE WRONG WAY and attempt to pull her to the top. While the father watched from a vantage point where he had no physical access to either child. The two children made it safely to the top of the DOWN escalator and I held back the urge to kick the living shit of the father.
People in Walmart make me crazy, too. I was attempting to look at something in a particular aisle where this woman, her cart, and her three children were milling about. I patiently parked my cart out of the way of everyone else in the aisle and waited. And then waited some more. Eventually she looked up and said, "Oh, do you want to get by?" I smiled and nodded and was perfectly pleasant as I pushed my cart down the aisle. At this point in my life (minimal medication and maximum hormones) I am very non-confrontational in public. I am afraid that if I open my mouth I am going to fucking lose my collective shit. Er, lose my shit more I suppose would be more accurate.
Are you familiar with people that need anti-anxiety medication (or any brain meds) and they go on it and feel great and then think to themselves, "Self, I am perfectly fine. I do not need medication." So they go off the medication and are stunned when they are totally fucking anxious? Yeah, that's not me so much. I like feeling like a normal person. However, I had forgotten some of the more fun and exciting parts of anxiety. Which, by the way is a super great gift from the fibromyalgia gods. Thanks! Recently I was reminded of how not fun it is to drive while anxious. No, I'm not putting myself or others in danger. Sheesh! I just have some reservations about parking in a spot to my right. I second guess myself and my inner anxious monologue sounds something like this, "Is there enough room? Are you sure? A huge truck just pulled out but are you SURE the little Honda will fit in that spot? Maybe the truck can bend space and time and fit but I don't know if you can do it. How about a bigger spot? Like the one two miles away in your driveway?"
This is where I have to (again) weigh the costs and benefits of taking my measly amount of Celexa every other day. I'm still able to DO things, I just prefer to be able to park like a person that has been driving for almost twenty years. Is my discomfort worth any possible risks? What about how my discomfort impacts Adrienne Stephanie? GAH! No wonder I hate people. My tolerance for interaction is currently at a very low level. Which brings me back to lovin' the innernets. You all rock my world. Thank you for giving me a little piece of sanity in this world.
PS. ANNA IT IS NOT A FUCKING WIG. DON'T MAKE ME DEDICATE A POST TO THE BEAUTY OF YOUR CURLY HAIR. I WILL TAKE YOU DOWN.
People in Walmart make me crazy, too. I was attempting to look at something in a particular aisle where this woman, her cart, and her three children were milling about. I patiently parked my cart out of the way of everyone else in the aisle and waited. And then waited some more. Eventually she looked up and said, "Oh, do you want to get by?" I smiled and nodded and was perfectly pleasant as I pushed my cart down the aisle. At this point in my life (minimal medication and maximum hormones) I am very non-confrontational in public. I am afraid that if I open my mouth I am going to fucking lose my collective shit. Er, lose my shit more I suppose would be more accurate.
Are you familiar with people that need anti-anxiety medication (or any brain meds) and they go on it and feel great and then think to themselves, "Self, I am perfectly fine. I do not need medication." So they go off the medication and are stunned when they are totally fucking anxious? Yeah, that's not me so much. I like feeling like a normal person. However, I had forgotten some of the more fun and exciting parts of anxiety. Which, by the way is a super great gift from the fibromyalgia gods. Thanks! Recently I was reminded of how not fun it is to drive while anxious. No, I'm not putting myself or others in danger. Sheesh! I just have some reservations about parking in a spot to my right. I second guess myself and my inner anxious monologue sounds something like this, "Is there enough room? Are you sure? A huge truck just pulled out but are you SURE the little Honda will fit in that spot? Maybe the truck can bend space and time and fit but I don't know if you can do it. How about a bigger spot? Like the one two miles away in your driveway?"
This is where I have to (again) weigh the costs and benefits of taking my measly amount of Celexa every other day. I'm still able to DO things, I just prefer to be able to park like a person that has been driving for almost twenty years. Is my discomfort worth any possible risks? What about how my discomfort impacts Adrienne Stephanie? GAH! No wonder I hate people. My tolerance for interaction is currently at a very low level. Which brings me back to lovin' the innernets. You all rock my world. Thank you for giving me a little piece of sanity in this world.
PS. ANNA IT IS NOT A FUCKING WIG. DON'T MAKE ME DEDICATE A POST TO THE BEAUTY OF YOUR CURLY HAIR. I WILL TAKE YOU DOWN.
Labels: Anna The Slutiest Slut of Slutdom, Asshats, My Pussy Hurts, Rambling, Stupid Twats, WTF
posted by Sam at
2:21 PM
3 Comments:
we need to watch mallrats tonight hun, it'll help, i promise.
Sam,
Ah, watching the beauty of a sunset, not even noticing the mosquito on your arm or the neighbor kid teasing your cat.
Mall Rats sounds a lot more fun that Jane Fonda's Yoga Workout (yikes!). I like misfit movies, like Down Periscope (Kelsey Grammer, Rip Torn), Operation Petticoat (Cart Grant, Tony Randall). Or maybe Ryan Reynold's Waiting or his Van Wilder.
When your parking dilemma stands in place for a nagging need to quit and go home - that is fear. Think of someone that behave reasonably - like yourself when on your meds - and pretend and act like her. With practice it should get easier, and it will be less pretending and start to feel like your regular routine.
Blessed be, Sam, to you and yours.
you are WAY nicer to those morons than i would have been.
especially the woman hogging the aisle in wal-mart. those people drive me INSANE and i think they should be glad there aren't machine guns installed on the front of the carts.
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