The problem is after a while of bottling up all these little things. I pop.
Mr. X called me a drama queen the other day. I don’t think he understands what is truly going on when I lose it.
It’s not him I’m not reacting to, he’ just the straw the broke the camel’s back. I’m reacting to all the little things that I’ve been letting slide. The idiot who cut me off, an email from an ex’s new girlfriend’s sister (true story), my step dad and then on top of all that you have Mr. X being jerky. It’s only a matter of time before I explode and someone is scraping my exploded brain off the ceiling (pretty picture eh? Lol). There is only so much a girl can take.
I am not a drama queen, I’m a time saver. Instead of reacting to each individual event I pack all my reactions into one firework filled show. Seem logical to me.
Anyway my dears, I’m heading off to do some Christmas shopping (what tools do I need for a lobotomy?). As always stay safe.
The Honest Bitch