Land of the Living

A little pick-me-up...

A little pick-me-up…

::typing randomly::

I’ve been off on an extended blog-cation and now it is time for me to return.

Actually, I was grounded from the computer for a while because someone whined about my spending far too much time on it.  My presence has been scarse across the virtual world but here I am, returning to the land of the living. Thank god!

I thought it was we women who complained about the lack of attention we receive from our significant others? I plugged the question into google search and of course it came up with a lot of insignificant crap– schizophrenia? Fainting? Customer Service? For the most part though it did lean toward my supposition about women and the lacking of attention. See, I knew the first 13 years weren’t my imagination paying tricks on me! And yes, I know that I’ve complained about this before but it is getting out of control. I’ve had to play nice and placate (or is that heavily medicate?) which just goes against the grain, you know?

::drums fingers on table irritably::

I’m the screaming, throwing things type of personality. Intense, passionate, in-your-face and back-you-up-against-a-wall person. Only, I can’t or I don’t… or won’t. Most of the time. I compromise and reason… those things that you learn how to do as you grow older and gain a bit of wisdom and patience. I’m fast running out of everything though. And tired of being nice and placating and paying attention to whiny people.

Not good.

So very not good.

::pacing restlessly:

Then all the smarmy comments. Ugh! Which is worse, men or women? Gotta wonder about that too. Oh, not the lacking attention thing but the reaction to it. A person should know better than to open their mouth and vocalize truthfully when asked “what’s wrong”. No one really wants to know; they want an opening to tell you all their woes and misfortunes. I swear to god I have Dear Abby tattooed on my forehead! Listen, I don’t give a shit about your problems. I’m placating. I’m daydreaming about stabbing myself in the eye with an icepick and swirling it around so I don’t have to listen to your drivel anymore! That is why I keep saying “yeah” and shaking my head about. I’m just punctuating my own thoughts! If your life is that fucked up go to a councilor. I’ve probably told you that 20 times already. Damn!

::walks off mumbling angrily::


5 thoughts on “Land of the Living

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