The inner workings of a troubled mind.

Vultures and vampires? How am I related?

For every good day, there is a bad day that comes along and slaps me in the face reminding me that I am not allowed to get cocky and think everyday will be a good one. Why should everyday be a happy day when there are others who thrive on my misery? Really guys? Just because I fight back doesn't mean I want a war. It means leave me alone, because if you point your finger in my face I will bite it off. Yes, I am a biter!

Visiting my family is like walking through a herd of blood thirsty vampires. Anything I say and do is under severe scrutiny, and in the next few minutes after I tell them good news or any news, I will be the debate of the night. The day before yesterday, the argument was about the amount of money I spent on a house hold item. In their eyes, it was an outrageous amount. They are not frugal people, but, simply put, cheap. In my eyes, it was a thirty year investment, backed by a warranty and, in my opinion a great deal. What I don't get, and maybe I'm wrong, is their interest in my life. Why is my business so important that they actually have heated debates about me in front of me? Getting a word in was impossible, so I left with an overpowering feeling of relief to be away from the drama loving vultures. How am I related to these people? I demand a DNA test. Any doctors around here wanna help? I do know a chemistry teacher. Hmmm ...

Anyway, I am stuck with the nagging notion that my every move is going to be the topic of a largely fabricated conversation amongst old cackling, coffee drinking, cigarette smoking hags. It irks me.