My husband says that I’ve turned into a teenager again. Now, as officially middle aged, I’m the worst kind of teenager. I have knowledge combined with sass. It appears to be a dangerous combination. I’ve run into some instances lately where I’ve been asked to tone it down (and that’s all I’m going to say about that). No way. I’m not doing it. The name of the game is….well it doesn’t matter what the game is because I’m not playing it.
First, because I’m exhausted. It’s not the sort of exhausted that happens from running a half marathon. I’ve been that sort of exhausted. That’s when you want to sit down in the shower and have someone else wash your hair because the thought of standing to do it is just too much. I’m the sort of exhausted that happens when you wake up 7 times in 7 hours to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. I’m exhausted from being in the 8th month of pregnancy. I could sleep at my desk in less than 2 minutes. I’m this exhausted plus some. I’m also exhausted with the constant talk of race relations in our country. It’s important. I just need one of those metal foil fire shelters to hide in every once in awhile so I can take a break. Exhausted.
Second, I don’t care about your feelings. Now I realize that sounds terrible so read on and I’ll explain myself. I have feelings and you have feelings. To me my feelings are more important than yours. Sometimes I can’t take care of you and me at the same time. In those cases, I choose me every time. You might think that makes me selfish. I think it’s what keeps me sane. Your feelings aren’t as important than mine.
Third, I just don’t like games. Honestly, I don’t. Games have too many rules. This isn’t “Survivor”. I’m not going to form an alliance with you so that later I can get a project through. I do good work. I do good work whether you value it or not. Take it or leave it. I’m not playing games and you can’t make me. So there.