Tuesday, May 29, 2012

You are going to need to know I haven't slept in 36 hours for this post to still not make sense.

Do you ever feel crazy? Like, really crazy? Like one day, at a cocktail party a psychiatrist is going to pull you aside and ask why you are off your meds? To which you will reply, what meds? And immediately you find yourself in a straight jacket in the back of a Mercedes?

I feel like this ALL. THE. TIME. 

If you know me, I hope you find it endearing. Or at least tolerable. But, there are definitely people who are just like. What. The. Fuck.

There is this woman at work who is constantly trying to medicate me. I get, at least once a week, "you should really take a ridalin and see how it feels." She has even brought in her own prescription. Because the shiny things are EVERYWHERE. And it's not just the easily distraction.

I talk to myself. Not just, like, mumbling under my breath. Whole conversation with myself. Is this a good idea? I don't know? I mean, maybe? I'm not really sure? Let's think about it.

Let's who? There is one of you. You of all people should know this. 

And sometimes I feel like an outsider watching my conversations. Not floating above myself. More like the person standing in the back of the room with this face:

And other me is the llama. In fact, I sort of feel like that more times than I am comfortable with. 

(For the record, this picture never makes me not laugh. Never.) 

(Yes, that was a double negative. Shut up. Call it artistic form.) 

(It is so not artistic form.) 


I was just watching a commercial for Humira and I thought that it said "The majority of people were queer or almost queer in 4 months" and I spit my water onto my laptop. I rewound and discovered they said "clear." It makes SO MUCH MORE SENSE NOW. If you were single, would you take a drug to become queer? I am not sure I know my own answer to that question.

Whoa. pardon that train of random that just came through. Where were we? Oh, yes. Shiny. Crazy. 


It is SO. HARD. to control sometimes. I can't even tell you. Especially around people I am comfortable with. And I don't think other people are like this. Because there are people who can do intricate, tedious things that I am not capable of. Not at all. People can read whole text books without getting 5 pages in and being confused because they realized the whole time they were thinking about what their super power would be if they could have any super power.

You guys. I have said invisibility for years and now...I don't know. I just don't know. I am thinking teleporting now because, well, who doesn't want to teleport. Not time travel. Teleport. Like, hey, I am coming over in 30 seconds. Oh, you live in India. No problem. Hi. Now I want dinner. 

And this is the problem. I write 95% of my posts just like this one and have to go back and tone down the crazy so you all aren't like, holy. fuck. MEDICATE HER. 

I have watched television shows religiously for years and I bet I know half the characters real names. Because I can't pay attention long enough to watch. I always tell people I don't watch movies because I can rarely sit through a whole one. And if I do, I am also reading a book and writing a blog post and milking a cow. 

As I am writing this, I am carrying on two text message conversations and watching TV. And, shockingly, have a pretty good idea about what is going on in all of those things.

The whole reason for this post is to tell you what happened at Kroger. So...I got off work and called the boy because I wanted to know if there was beer because I just worked an 11 hour day and haven't slept since I woke up at 9 am Sunday morning. It is currently 9 pm Tuesday evening. He said no, which immediately made my entire body sag. I needed a beer. So, I drove to the drive thru, all the while sending Big Jed Blip Me messages (like a walkie talkie) about what a spaz I am. So, I am walking through Kroger (just typed cougar) and a Wham!* song came on and all of a sudden, I am walking through Kroger, singing "Wake me up before you go go, don't leave me hanging on like a yo yo" and didn't even realize it was happening because I was thinking about an event at work and what apps I could do for it. Until a woman stopped in her tracks, pointed at me, and laughed. Quite loudly. And pointed. Did I mention pointing? Ugh. 

I stopped in my tracks and turned around to look at what she was pointing at until I realized...fuck. It's me. It's me she is pointing at. 

I wish I could tell you this was a singular incident. I also talk to myself while I grocery shop. And I may tend to kind of pretentiously answer people's produce questions in the checkout. And I always feel like a giant douche when I do it, but I do it anyway because I want that lady behind me in the line to see how cheap Kale is (TWO MEALS, 80 CENTS. TWO MEALS) and know that is SO easy to cook and delicious and so good for you. 

And I am an ADD, shiny object loving douche bag.

And I am not proof reading this until after I hit publish because I will edit the fuck out of it and it won't reflect the point I am trying to make. 

Which is, to the best of my knowledge, I want the power to teleport, I talk to myself and apparently sing while grocery shopping, Humira makes people gay, and llama scares kid is the best picture ever.

*As a kid, my sister and I went through not one, not two, but three Wham! tapes in our little microphone cassette player because we were so obsessed. 


Erratic said...

Um. The drive thru was closed, so I went to Kroger. As if THAT was the only thing you didn't follow. Holy. Balls. My. Brain.

monique said...

damn girl!
get out of my head.

Anonymous said...

Have to say, I've been following you for months. You are alternately a total riot, and totally "real". And I have days like you've had, ALL the time... hang in there. :) ~phnx

Rachael Heiner said...

Well, maybe people in "real life" think you're weird, but I kind of like you like this. It makes me feel more normal. Also, who POINTS at someone and laughs? What are you, three years old? So weird.

Big Jed said...

To read this post is to know the crazy.

Also, to be the recipient of the blip.me notes is quite the honor.