Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before

I have very few fears in life... rats, blinding poverty, rats, and winding up like a few other women that I know (did I say rats?). I've been to therapy so I no longer fear becoming my mother. I am way too much like my father for that to happen anyway. And I am working to not grow up to be quite so him. There are a few women in the office that I am like, "please god, strike me down with an anvil immediately" if I become like them. They are the busybody, the spazz, and the lost one. I take care of myself (okay, my roots are getting scary) for the most part and I am trying to live a healthy, happy life so hopefully I won't end up like the spazz. You should not be able to smell me coming and want to gag. I shouldn't become the lost one. My mind is wonderfully intact. Yes, I admit I have my retarded moments (I could not find bubble breaker on my new device because I forgot to look under games) but they are generally cute, right? Its the busybody that I mostly fear becoming. You know the one that likes to impose rules and enforce them like a 2nd grade teacher? See, I have the inclination to get into everyone's business and provide valuable but unsolicited advice. I need to not do that so often, I think. I like some rules, but I don't like stupid rules. Why for instance does the "fire door" downstairs have to be closed and locked? I'm pretty sure that "closed" would suffice per fire codes. But I am not the keeper of these rules and regulations. Instead, I get to complain about them. And while I know that the same people leave gross stuff in the fridge for months at a time - I am not out to "get them" for breaking rules. I just think they are dirty and gross. I have no need to share my findings. I like knowing. Its my secret and their shame. So as long as I keep stuff to myself, complain and don't enforce - I should be safe. Right?
PS... roots will be gone on Saturday.

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