Sometimes I even HATE myself.
I know, I know, Hate--it's such a strong word. And lets be honest, I don't really HATE myself. Like, I'm not into cutting, attempting suicide, or even saying awful things about me to me. Probably the most self destructive I get is drinking a few too many Pepsi, downing too much chocolate, and suddenly doing something dramatic with my hair.
So why all the drama? Especially at 10:38pm on a Tuesday night.
Here I am, almost seven days post-op from my ankle surgery, stuck in my dark, cool basement with lots of time to think, think, think. I've basically been drugged for the last one-hundred-sixty-eight hours on Oxycodone--first time taking it--and I've been left with plenty of vivid, scary dreams to write great stories about for years to come. But hanging out so much with yourself isn't always the funnest thing. I'm left remembering that this isn't the first, second, or even the fiftieth time that I bug myself.
So what bugs me about me?
First off, I seriously can't stand the fact that I just CAN'T KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT, especially when opening the endless pit of chaos can cause unintentional headaches for myself and others. Somehow thoughts only meant for me, myself, and I often spew from within and land smack on the face of others with no way left to retrieve them so that they may remain as only thoughts. This is better know as foot inserted into mouth. Unfortunately, we are very well acquainted with each other. This is probably the number one time I can't stand myself. Because honestly, somewhere deep inside I know I shouldn't be saying it. A small little voice even subtly warns me that this will probably back fire, yet I STILL DO IT!
Why?? Why?? Why??
Do I like pain & suffering?
No. Not really. I swear.
Second thing I hate about myself. I just can't keep my mouth shut. Hum...
-Uh, Erin, that kind of sounds like the first thing you hate about yourself.
-Why yes it does. But this one is actually different. Although I think I could repeat #1 just about one-hundred times before I actually got to #2. But # 2 is actually different than #1.
You go to, lets say just for the fun of it, the Salt Lake County Convention with Erin Apelu. She's a ton of fun--really I am (at least I've been told). Erin has no problem coming up with something to say. In fact, Erin can just about spend the next six-hundred minutes together entertaining you by talking. And Erin's talking ability goes beyond just the six-hundred minutes, she can actually talk for six-hundred minutes about completely different things, thus keeping the time together very diverse. In the process of all this talking Erin is doing with you, she can manage to talk to everyone around her. At several points during the day a small crowd of people have gathered around to listen to her. Erin most definitely has no qualms of approaching and talking to the county/state celebrities that are there for the day--she is bound and determined to get her pictures and make her voice heard...even if others don't want to hear her... (and most don't). She can be funny, sarcastic, and annoying all at once and you're left thinking that's a sort of skill. By the end of the day, as you stumble towards the Trax train, you find that a LARGE pain has wrapped your head and is pulsating in rhythm with the sound echoing from her mouth. You think to yourself, does she ever stop? You shake your head. You already know the answer. No. The train is finally rounding the corner, only twenty more minutes until you can lose this chick and drop into your bed for some peace and quite. Erin's mouth is still moving, and a storm has quickly approached, violently whipping her hair in her face. You secretly wonder if the dirt flying around landed in her mouth, would she shut-up then? While chuckling to yourself you hear Erin say, "AH! I'm exhausted being with myself for the day. Seriously. Sometimes I can't stand being with myself." You open your eyes in shock and notice Erin has lost her balance and slips onto the train tracks, just feet in front of the approaching train. For a split second you contemplate, should I put myself, her family, and even her out of her misery? I mean, even she can't stand herself. But instantly realizing you could be held a hero, you reach forward and quickly pull her back on to the platform. Hard as it was, your choice was made.
And just as expected your held a local hero--But not for the train saving, as you thought--but for the six-hundred minutes sacrificed for the good of mankind--and politics.
Yes, my fellow blog friends, this is a typical day-in-the-life.
Now, ask yourself this very, very important question.......................
COULD YOU STAND BEING ME??
Comments are welcomed, and encouraged!