Weekly Confessional

Last night I was a bit bitchy and if you follow me on twitter you already know this. It wasn't so much bitchy as I was snappy and totally on-one.

 

Tyrone and I have fun over the dumbest things. He is the king of twisting words around. He's sort of like a younger, more handsome, biracial Weird Al Yancovic. With that said, he has completely rubbed off on me. I find myself starting to sing songs with the words that Tyrone has made up for them which he repeats often. It's more than likely the repetition that has caused this. I'm like a three year old. If you say, "Daddy is an idiot" over and over again they will eventually repeat it at an inopportune time. In my case it's in front of "friends" co-workers or relatives who don't understand our humor.

 

Last night we were sitting in the Chick-file-a drive thru when after we ordered the nice little girl told Tyrone she would be happy to serve him at the window. We both instantly looked at each other at the same time and said, "I would be happy to SERVICE you at the window Sir." Hahahah! It was a golden opportunity that warranted a tweet if I do say so myself. AND I DID.  In all honesty the "service" left us feeling unsatisfied. I felt like I paid $9.32 for a dog to hump my leg. They forgot our fries and didn't give us any BBQ sauce. We waited for months for this place to open near us too and so far I have been disappointed. Oh, how I do love their coleslaw though.

 

{This mid-morning tangent was brought to you by INSOMNIA, the makers of: YOUR WORK DAY TOMORROW IS GOING TO SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!}

 

Confession? Is that what you came here for? Right.

 

The number of times that I talk to myself audibly are increasing more and more every day. Is this one of those things you have to expect when you get older? I've always talked to myself. Always. For as long as I can remember I have had many a conversation in my head but never OUT LOUD. It started off with faint mumbling of which I inevitably would do when Tyrone was around WHICH always helped the situation along. You can imagine, I'm sure. I didn't even realize I did it most times. Lately, when I'm home cleaning, working on a project or packaging up an order I will shoot-the-shit AUDIBLY. I of course stop myself after I realize how crazy I look and try to play it off that I was talking to Frederick who unfortunately is in the other room. (blank stare)

 

I'm thinking of just going with it. It would help keep strangers away or anyone who may try to start some bullshit small talk with me, which is what I prefer. No surprise there. I am still a bit hesitant of embracing it. I'm afraid the conversations will quickly turn to gibberish and I'll start talking about how that one time I was probed by that alien that one night and became pregnant with it's baby who is living with it's alien father in a galaxy far, far away.

 

You can see how this might not be a positive direction for me.

 

One day I'll wake up from my third afternoon nap on the corner of Main & 3rd South, covered in street filth and wearing six coats clinging to a dead Frederick whom Tyrone had stuffed for me and gave to me when he finally sent me on my nonsensical way.

 

And now I'm homeless.

 

That was quick.