Queen of Rambles

1. I’m well and truly detoxing this week and it sucks sucks sucks. I want chocolate. I NEED chocolate. Chocolate is calling my name. If I don’t get chocolate I might do something rash. If I see myself as some sort of superhero with special powers, but instead of being heroic and good, I become a beast when denied chocolate. I go on rampages and shoot people who don’t know how to use their damned blinkers. I suppose you don’t call that a superhero. Perhaps villain is the vocabulary word I’m looking for.
2. I had a major fit of hair rage this morning. I have hated my hair ever since I got it cut last month and I want it to die die die! I put it up in a pony tail, grabbed my sewing scissors and cut it all off!

   Psyche!

   I didn’t really. But I wanted to so badly that my arm muscles were twitching. Instead, I put it in a pony tail and went to our playgroup with it up and nasty looking. I never wear pony tails in public except to the gym. I felt weird about it, which is weird in itself because when did I become the person who doesn’t wear pony tails in public? I was so irritated that I called the super nice salon and made an appointment. It was well worth the extra money. Not only did I get a fantastic hair cut, I also got a fantastic neck massage from the stylist. Score! She didn’t even yell at me or make me feel bad for giving myself a horrendous bang cut a couple of weeks ago, though it was not easy to work around my super-shortened little fringe. Hopefully I will be able to make it look half as nice when I style it myself.

3. When I am having chocolate-denial rage and I want to kill people and cut off my hair, I really need to work out. My body has become addicted to it and I don’t get nearly as grouchy when I go burn off my excess energy. Thanks to the play group and the hair cut I didn’t ever get to the gym today so I was super grouchy tonight and I twisted Erik’s head until it popped right off his body. I told him to quit crying. Maybe next time he’ll listen to me.

   Ok, so I didn’t really do that, but I was sure tempted to squeeze him till he popped. When I get that mad there is just no place for the anger to go and I can almost see why girls get into cutting themselves. It’s a destructive force and it needs an outlet. I scare myself sometimes. I guess I’ll be ok since I’m 32 and I’ve never actually done anything bad, but I sure do miss the days of my youth when I could throw a full blown temper tantrum in my room and not have to be embarrassed about it later. I would throw my dolls all over the place and yell and scream and cry. It was lovely.

   I’m going to the gym first thing tomorrow morning.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 28th, 2006 at 7:47 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.