Undone

I’m getting a year older this year. and if there is one thing that I have learned about me: I don’t like big groups.

 

This sucks because with my friends, and their spouses (whom I also consider friends, but I wanted to illustrate the number here) and their children (most of us have at least 2 kids now if not more) its’ really hard for us all to get together and I don’t turn into a wicked hose beast….

*goes off to google what that means in case it’s nasty* … Noun (1): A woman who is ruthless, evil, and outright objectionable in both physical and mental presence that seems accurate.

SO SAYS URBAN DICTIONARY!

Anyway, when I get into a group of like… say 10+ people I start getting snippy. You know a little curt. ( see also: blunt, breviloquent, brief, brusque, churlish, compendiary, compendious, concise, crusty, gruff, imperious, laconic, offhand, peremptory, pithy, sharp, short, short and sweet, snappish, snippety, succinct, summary, tart, terse, unceremonious, uncivil, ungracious)

I could google for more, but why when that illustrates it so well. I also Kind of use up all of my social appropriateness at work. I am nearly always in a group of 10+ people at work, and more so (considering the work I do) in an awkward situation. (Even more awkward. It’s like Meta awkward, the awkwardness builds on itsself in such a manner it refers back to itsself. THATS RIGHT.) Anyway, I kind of use up all my niceties in a day.

 

Imagine it’s like… D&D and it’s an ability called “Social Norm” and I can only use it 3 times a day like mother flippin’ laying on of hands or whatever. Point is, it’s limited and I use it up at work where I’m paid to use it. So I end up going out (especially in the summer because people are healthier in the summer, and they like to socialize in the blazing mother flippin’ heat (O-M-G this heat!) So I am warm… well let’s say I’m sweaty. So I’m warm, I’m covered in a layer of my sticky gross sweat, which makes me increasingly nervous because I am now nervous that I smell because I’m covered in a sheen of sweat, and there are over 10 people there. Then you add in my kids, whom I love. Like a lot. God help them, cause I feel like a lost cause on them sometimes. But you get the ragging of “Mommy, I want food” which you give them of course, be cause you’ll get people staring at you like this:

 

So I do that, but it also makes me nervous, which makes me sweat more… I think I should break for a moment to say why it makes me nervous around food. I have been good about it for years. But I get uncomfortable eating around people. I hate potlucks, because I am sure at least one person is thinking “What is up with that fat chick?! She’s back for more!?” so I never eat enough, and I swear to ALL that is holy and good in this world I am sure people are watching me. Like that moment in movies where you sit up and you realize everyone is staring at you HORKING DOWN the cheetos and dip and you just feel like fatty fat Chris farley and everyone is just staring and you hear like a fork drop and then you have to hastily excuse yourself (Oh you’re seeing into the inner workings of my mind now!) Also I feel like I don’t eat “properly” so eating in front of people makes me sweat too. Nervous = sweat. Plus, as I mentioned, it’s hot. Now, oft times my husband is with me when I’m at these things. And I’m sure people think I’m a hose beast because i make him do like EVERYTHING because I can’t handle it. He gets me my food, he gets me my drink, he gets the kids food, because I have a brain relapse when I try to go get food.

 

Funny story about food. when I was little (little, teenager, whatever) my parents and I would have breakfast together. and by sheer happenstance (usually at least once a week if not every day) my parents would star at me while I ate. They weren’t TRYING to be jerks. They did not know about my crippling phobias. (in fact I would say up to this posting they probably still don’t) so they weren’t trying to reinforce some of my worst fears, but at least it was just mom and dad. If they didn’t want me to be a porker, they could have stopped feeding me.

 

ANYWAY: Back to the setting of it’s warm, I’m nervous (and sweaty which makes me more nervous), there are over 10 people which makes me curt, I’m being belligerently abusive to my husband by making him my manservant (because he understands my psychosis and would not like to deal with sobbing Meryl later that night) and nice normal people try to interact with me. This leads to fail. My sentences are short. Even in the best of circumstances I lack finesse, but I do try. Like actually engaging instead of just answering when someone says “How are you?” I remember in addition to saying that I’m well I should ask (for proprieties sake) “and how are you?” because it’s NICE dang it! Instead it goes a bit like this:

 

Nice normal person: “How is work going, Meryl?”

Me: “Fine.” (Imagine the attitude of a petulant rebellious teenager, only encased in a 27 year old woman who has no right to speak like that…. not that teenagers do.)

Nice normal person: “That’s great, so you’re a trainer?”

Me: “yes.” (At which point my brain turns off. I have answered two monosyllabic statements, that means I am CHECKED OUT.)

 

Then, when I am removed of sweat, and heat, and kids screaming at me for food, and I am calm to the point where I am not going to stick my own eye out just for a reason to get out of there. I think back about how it was a nice evening… except for my social inadequacies. Then I think “I should just facebook that nice normal person. I am sure they would understand” I become RESOLUTE in the idea. THat’s a great Idea.

and then I think “and say what? I’m sorry I’m socially retarded around more than 10 people and it was hot and I was sweaty so I got snippy I don’t think that would work out very well. Let’s just keep the crazy inside.

 

So this is for you, nice normal people of the world:

 

uuuuuuuuuh

kthnxbai

Derringer Meryl [on toppa it] Out