Stranger danger

Question - Does a salad justify fried mozzarella sticks, or do fried mozzarella sticks cancel out the salad?? Discuss.

I've been inhabited lately by this awful woman. Seriously, this bitch is just....foul. She's not mean or vicious. I'm sure she'd make perfectly acceptable dinner company and she could be trusted to watch your children or your cats and maybe even water your plants on a regular basis. If you had her over for dinner, she probably wouldn't drink the last beer or clog the toilets or do anything gross in the flowerboxes. You might even want to go shopping with her. She's a snappy dresser!! If you don't mind flip-flops (see below.) But dude...I wouldn't want to date her, and I'm certainly not enjoying BEING her.

This woman is not me. I do not know who this woman is. I want her gone, evicted, booted out, shit-canned, eighty-sixed, exorcised, outta here. Whatever it takes. An old priest and a young priest? Fine. A diet? Fine. New meds? Fine. A daily exercise regimen? Fine. Give up alcohol? Well....let's not get crazy.

Seriously...I'm hearing the drivel coming out of my mouth and I just want to slap myself. Has this ever happened to you? You hear yourself talk and you just want to step outside of your body and yell at yourself?? Hmm...perhaps we've found part of the problem already.....

In the past two weeks, I've accused my boyfriend of not being attracted to me (Yes! Already! I KNOW!!) I've taken things personally that had NOTHING to do with me, I've cried for no reason, I've gotten mad for no reason, I've woken up angry, I've
gone to bed angry (I've been at home ALONE people!), I've flipped off total strangers for no good reason, I've generally turned into this surly, weepy, insecure, whiny, stompy, angry, grumpy, bitchy woman that I just do NOT WANT TO BE.

BAH.

Max has not done a single damn thing to EVER ever make me believe he doesn't find me interesting in any way. The woman he was attracted to was NOT this insecure, mealy-mouthed little bitch, but I can guaran-damn-tee you the woman he gets annoyed with
will be her. Wow...that was some awkward sentence structure right there....you might need to stretch a little after reading that...ow. But you got the point right? This version of Laura? She's that Nightmare Insecure High Maintenance Girlfriend. She's the woman I have prided myself on NOT BEING for 34 years. Ask my ex-husband, and even HE will tell you that I certainly have my issues, but this? NO, I'm not usually like this. "Do yeeew still loooove meeeee???" "Whaaat are yeew
thiiiinkiiiing???" Glllaaaaarrrgggg. Somebody shoot me! Pleeze.

So yeah - Max? I'm sorry baby. It's not you, it's me. Heh.

The other stuff??? I dunno....just weird stuff, like I've been convinced that the reason why BFF hasn't emailed me on some sort of regular basis (regular according to whom??) is because I've committed some kind of egregious error. I've pissed her
off in some way - by going to happy hours with the Austin crew (??) by taking pictures of the wrong things at the wedding rehearsal (wha?) by drinking two beers at the baseball game when we were in Lincoln (she got me the second one - hell, she
upgraded it!!) It couldn't possibly be that she's newly married, newly pregnant, just moved to a new town and just started a new job. Noooo - it's ALL. ABOUT. ME. See? Narcissism and paranoia - two great tastes that go great together!

Last night I almost got out of my truck and told a trucker to fuck off because I *thought* he honked his horn at me. Wrap your mind fully around this mental image: Me - in a sleeveless top, skirt and sparkly flip-flops (yes, I'm one of those women,
shut.up.) getting out of my car in the DARK on I-35, which has ONE LANE BLOCKED OFF, to go stand at the driver's side of an 18-WHEELER to tell the driver to fuck off, because I THOUGHT he honked at me. UM. Yeah. That's not the first time I had to talk myself down from a ledge over the past couple of weeks, either.

That, and the fatigue, and the obvious lack of focus exhibited in yesterday's entry (I swear, no crack was involved in that, I just got to a certain point and threw up my hands in disgust and hit publish) and I..just..I....I quit.

I had an appointment with the meds doc yesterday (as my entire readership - all 3 of you - breathes a sigh of relief) and she upped the meds I'm on...which is new stuff from what I HAD been on, which...eh...long story. My "issues" are not even comparable to some folks out there - we won't even start that discussion. I could probably deal with the grumpies - sometimes I actually sort of enjoy being in a bad mood. Hee. Stomping around all sort of angrily, projecting this kind of aura of "fuck off" is kind of nice - especially when you're 5'10" and have the physical presence to back it off. I am NOT one of those women that gets told "aw, you're cute when you're angry." I get told something more like, "dude...don't hit me, OK?" So being angry is not really that big of a deal to me. But I don't like walking around feeling defensive all the time, I do NOT like feeling like I'm going to cry all the time, and I most definitely do NOT enjoy being the type of woman who asks her boyfriend "what are you thinking?" when really all he's doing is wondering if he needs to get his oil changed or not.

Any of you folks need a roommate? I'll pay the bitch's first month rent!!! bah!!!