I detest when other people don’t listen. When they are sure that they know what is best for me. When they overstep boundaries and try to make decisions for me.
I’m sure that I despise these things because I do them more than I ever notice.
When the ball comes zinging my way, though, I am keenly aware of all of its self-inflated, controlling, overbearing ways.
Big. Long. Sigh.
I don’t like the responsibility of being the boss. I still like it when people respect me and listen to what I have to say. A completely ridiculous juxtaposition of struggles.
I was smacked in the face with this red ball of my own fury recently. Inside my head, it is not pretty. I make myself overwhelmed with cleaning up the messes that others make because I am sure they didn’t pay attention. Since they didn’t heed my warnings in the first place, and let me make choices for me, I am here cleaning up a mess.
Yes, you heard right. They didn’t let me make choices for me.
Hello? Yes. Welcome to my head. Hold on and strap in, this ride has not yet been rated.
I’m not 3. I’m 3 with another number following along closely behind. A compound number if you will.
This little tirade is not lacking in ridiculousness. I know this. It is not new territory.
Thanks for listening to the tour de crazy. You are welcome anytime. Management is not responsible for whiplash from shaking your head in dismay or seasickness induced from the tides of insanity which frequent this place.