Oscar The Grouch

Ok, so some days call for miniature pity parties–especially when hormones, a reoccurring injury, and a wedding invitation are afoot. It happens. No one is perfect.

As I commence to having a 10 minute pity party, I asked a friend of mine why no one is even tempting to look in my direction (correction: there was an old barber guy who called me baby once). After a few moments of silence, she responded with the dreaded 4 words no one likes to hear: Can I be honest? Uh-oh.

She said, “You don’t give off….’hit on me’. You give off ‘don’t you say one word to me or I’m going to cut you’.” Apparently, the energy I give off (in waves obviously) is that the human race is a bother to me and it disrupts my space. If this is the case, it means I am putting up walls and armoring up to shut people out. The fact I can recognize the train wreck before it happens is a sign of growth–but, err, how does one correct it?

Have you ever had a mental out of body experience? Things are happening, you see them happening in slow motion, but you have no idea how to stop them there things? Well, the walls are being constructed and the armor is being slipped on and I feel incapable of stopping any of it. What to do? What to do?

Yesterday, I ended the 10 minute pity party with an apple & dark chocolate. I knew not what to do. I suppose I will just try to consciously not be so Oscar the Grouch like and more reformed Grinch (you know when his heart grew 3 sizes that day). It may take a few glasses of wine, but I can make it happen 😛


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