Monday, September 9, 2013

Being Nice Makes Me Physically Ill

Sunday afternoon I realized I was not well. I had a the master of all migraine headaches. I felt physically wiped out and achy. Actual. Physical. Pain. The whole weekend we had beautiful fall weather. I did enjoy spending a majority of my time outside. Fresh air, getting 'things' done, many dog walks, why was I not feeling well? 

Then it occurred to me. I didn't bitch about anything all weekend. Not one 'fuck' or sarcastic 'whatta freakin genius'. Nothing! 

I was (gasp) nice. 

I was (wheeze) personable. 

People…I was kind to my ex-husband (twice removed - long story)!

Now for you 'normals' out there, I'm sure you are confused as to why pleasantness is an issue, let alone something that makes me physically sick. Let me try to explain…It is not in my genetic make-up to be…congenial. Oh sure, I look like a normal person, (I've learned how to blend in) but trust me when I tell you that things irritate me that are not rational. Long periods of niceness take a toll on my body. It was the same for my Mom, and I'm sure many generations prior.

Irked is in my DNA. 

The clicking of a pen, people humming in their cubical, lawn mowers that are running all day, noisy eaters, people on their cell phones at the cash register,  long nails clicking on a keyboard, people who drive a large truck but live in a condo, everyday stupidity...


I thought I was lucky that my condition happened on the opening Sunday of the pro-football season because enough should piss me off to alleviate the pain in my head and body.

Nah, the games didn't bother me.

On to plan B.

First, I sent my older sister (p/i/t/a) a text message advising that 'karma is a fucktard'. She is use to getting these kind of texts from me (don't feel sorry for her). No reply. 

OWWW my head.

Second, I sent my brother (Boris) a text advising that our favorite team (the Steelers) look like shit and I am going to root for the Bronco's this year because Payton is old and possibly bionic and needs our support.  His reply was far from medicating. He said, 'OK, Go Bronco's'. 

Wha???? Ugh, my aching back...

Third, I texted the ex and advised him that the Giants suck, they had 6 turnovers. His reply was not medicinal. He said, 'They should open up a bakery'. 

A vein in my head exploded and minimal light hurt my eyes. I took some ibuprofen and went to bed with a heating pad.

There is always tomorrow...

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A writer exercising the writing muscle.