7

I just had to tell you this.

So I’m about to take a shower and I’m brushing my teeth/stripping and I’m thinking about what I need to write about. I can hear the text message dings while I’m thinking about what I have to put into words. I can hear my thoughts trying to climb over the rhododendrons to get to my plans for the rest of the evening as I’m thinking about what I must absolutely throw up onto the screen. And it comes down to this:

In college one of my guy friends introduced to me one of his buddies to our lunch table and I thought that buddy was one of the most annoying, stick-up-his-butt, obnoxious human beings around. The worst part is he had no clue he was being this way. Have you ever met someone like that? Someone who thought his word was law and no one could contradict his opinions? That was stick-up-his-butt guy and we did not get along. One day he asked everyone if they are a “cup person” or a “hand person,” referring to what you use when brushing your teeth. At the time I was a “cup person” and declared as much. He said I can’t be a “cup person” if I want to be clean. He was a “hand person” himself.

I thought this was just another one of his ridiculous claims. Who brushes their teeth by carrying water in their hand? But after some time noticing for myself the mildew that so easily grows in cups and the constant need to clean the cup, I finally agree with him on one thing–it’s a lot easier and cleaner to be a “hand person” than a “cup person.” You’re welcome.

(And here I was thinking no way in 65 million years would I ever agree with stick-up-his-butt guy on anything. Goes to show you should never say never.)

0

You must be a dog whisperer.

You are a workaholic. You have no patience for malfunctioning computers and loquacious women. I’m over here like a dog listening to the sound of its master. I can hear how hard you work, but I’m always afraid to look. I’m afraid to either look into your eyes and give away some secret of mine or look at you and get nothing in return. I don’t know which one is worse. A dog always wants something from its master. And yet, you surprise me every time you scare me with declarations and questions. Because they are always the right ones, the ones that get to me. I don’t know how you do it.

5

bits and pieces

I can feel the anorexia setting in again. With a side effect of depression, no matter what I’m doing I feel stuck. I just stare at something, anything, frozen in place wherever I am. Because right now absolutely nothing makes sense except for what I eat or not eat. I’m in full hunting mode, taking care of the immediate problem in front of me and not thinking beyond that. Thinking beyond takes too much energy and it’s too foggy so like a true perfectionist, I don’t know where to begin. So I’m stuck in Groundhog Day, solving the same old problems I’ve always had like it’s my passion, proficiency, and profitability all rolled into one. I’m that horse circling round and round, getting thirsty, but instead of drinking the water like the logical thing to do would be, I keep circling. Like a hawk about to make a kill, only I never do.