It’s another one of those Monday mornings. When I rolled out of bed 27 minutes after my alarm went off and looked in the mirror for a “you can do it” pep-talk, my face was so swollen I caught myself poking at my cheeks like, “what the…”
Then I moseyed into the kitchen where I make eggs and coffee every morning on auto-pilot. My kitchen is really small and I can almost reach every part of it standing in the same place. I put the cartoon of eggs on the counter and turned my back for a split second to grab my coffee and I heard an icky splat-crunch-drip combo sound. Entire carton of 12 eggs on my tiny kitchen floor.
Raw eggs are gross! They have like a weird non-scoopable (off the floor at least) quality but you also can’t just like blot / wipe / soak them up, ya know?
Anyways, I came by here to share something quick and funny I learned about myself this weekend. I spent another weekend soaking up time with different groups of amazing friends and mixing-in with new people.
One of the nights, I met a man who, after a little small talk, told me he’d “bet” that I was “a little crazy” and in my head, I thought, “I will… strangle you… with my brain fool,” and my eyeballs felt a little hot in my head.
I’ve always wondered about those women who can act totally psychotic and yet always get to keep the good guys around. Some of my guy friends let this happen to them. Why? How? Huh?! I’ve never had it in me, not like that. Or at least I didn’t think I did. Apparently, as I learned this weekend, staring at this guy, waiting for him to catch fire from my thoughts, it might be in me. Just a little. Deep down. Waiting for someone who actually knows me and whose opinion actually matters, to say it.
“Girl, stop being crazy!” …. “Oh, okay, I’ll show you crazy. Buckle up buddy.” (Haha, I’ve always wanted to say that.)
…it’s probably not really in me but… if it is… you’ve been warned.
Have a great non-crazy Monday!