At a younger age when my hormones were out of whack, classmates were mean to each other for negligible reasons, and I lacked the ability to defend myself, I would come home from school and cry. A lot. The emotional turmoil and the act of crying would exhaust me so I would fall asleep on my bed, always shaken awake by my mother when dinner was ready. The drama du jour seemed less traumatic after a nap.
I don’t face drama on-the-reg anymore (middle school was the effing worst). I try to steer clear of it, but occasionally I have the burning desire to tell people about themselves. Most people don’t want to hear it. They already know 90% of what I want to say, but they choose to ignore it.
Sometimes I reach my limit. If you are over the age of eighteen and you whine a lot, I will tell you about yourself. If you act in a way that creates large hurdles for others, I will tell you about yourself. You get the idea. Those are behaviors that other people would also discourage so I don’t feel too crazy-cat-lady-yelling-at-birds-in-the-park when I broach the subject that someone needs to check themselves before they wreck themselves (and others). Read the rest of this entry »