I’ve had an emotionally weird ten hours. And for six of those hours, I’ve been unconscious. Let’s first discuss my strange dream where I discovered Joan Crawford was my great-grandmother.
My jaw dropped to the floor.
“I’m related to Joan Crawford?!” I yelled.
I completely ignored the fact that my Grampy sat there explaining to me the trauma he experienced being strapped to his bed without food or water for days.
I was too wrapped up in the idea that I had gone 25 years without knowing that my great Nana was a famous movie star with abusive and sadistic capabilities.
So while my Grampy described his unfortunate upbringing with THE Mommie Dearest, I had this reaction:
I woke up this morning dazed and confused. I did in fact Google Joan Crawford a few days ago, so that explains the random family connection I made up in my head. But the fact that I showed no sympathy for my poor Grampy is what’s concerning to me.
I think back to a conversation I had with a friend and Mr. Jess last night on our way to trivia. Our friend, we can call him Blue, was having lady troubles. A girl he really liked was an extremely insecure person, and constantly needed acceptance from her ex-boyfriend, even though he spent majority of their relationship cheating on her. Well, the girl told the ex that her and Blue were involved and BOOM, all of a sudden he wanted to get back together.
Not so all-of-a-sudden, I’m sure.
She decided to get back together with dickwad instead of being with Blue, and her reasoning was, “We have a history.”
“Yeah, well, I have a history with diapers. Doesn’t mean I’m going to go back to wearing diapers,” said Mr. Jess. I couldn’t have said it better myself.
I can never understand why people use that as an excuse to get back together with an ex. Of course you have a history! I have a history with all of my exes. Doesn’t mean I’m going to get back together with them. So, when Blue asked for my opinion, my first response was, “Good riddance.” Green Day style.
It’s like when people say, “I’ve been hurt once before…”
Oh, really? Just once, huh? MUST BE NICE. I’ve been hurt a million times. Shit happens.
And then after they act like being hurt is a brand new concept, they say, “I’m very guarded. I put my walls up.”
No, no you don’t. If you are telling someone that you’re guarded, you’re not actually guarded because you’re capable of talking about your feelings which is exactly what you’re doing. Hence, not guarded.
So, am I a mean spirited person? No, I don’t think so. I just have very little patience, I suppose. Maybe my subconscious was telling me that I have no sympathy, just like Joan Crawford.
Back to my emotional ten hours. I pondered this strange dream during my morning commute to work when I got an email from a job posting I applied for days before, telling me I’m a potential candidate for the position. I started shaking my wheel like a lunatic, I was so excited. The pay was AMAZING, the benefits AMAZING, and the commute AMAZING. I got to my desk at work to open the email and read it more carefully. I decided to Google the company and peruse their website. The only problem was….THEY HAD NO WEBSITE.
I started to get a little suspicious. The only thing Google could show me was listing after listing of the same job title I applied for in various parts of the country, and to email the same woman I emailed. Only ONE woman in a company full of “9,000” employees is handling HR, huh? I THINK NOT.
I determined that the job was a scam. And I wanted to cry.
But then my mother emailed me to inform me her client is going to buy one of my paintings. So it’s been a roller coaster of a morning between being ecstatic and joyous, to being extremely annoyed in about two seconds, and then back to being ecstatic.
Maybe it’s the rain. I’m just going to blame the rain.