One of the things I absolutely hate about myself is this….When somebody makes me mad, I tend to cry. Why is that? That makes me even madder. I don’t cry a lot. I probably should cry more. I don’t like to cry in front of anybody because I ain’t so purty when I cry. I prefer to cry in the privacy of my own person.
I know somebody’s gonna email saying “Who made you cry, Sista?” It was mostly somebody trying to be “constructively critical” when in reality, I think this person is mostly flexing their Control Freak Extraordinaire muscles and it just hasn’t set well with me. I ain’t a’handlin’ it so well.
Maybe I just had me a good cry sittin’ in there waiting to escape and this just brought it out? Perhaps?
I think I get mad at myself for crying over stuff like that because when I was a little kid, I would cry if you looked at me wrong. I was a ninny. I can’t tell you the family pictures that exist with little Sharon crying. I wish I had one on hand to show ya cause it’s funny.
It’s not a work issue. It has to do with my writing and it’s yet another confirmation I do not need to be writing for a living because I don’t like to be told what to write and how to write it and I stomp my feet and cry and threaten to take my toys and go home if somebody takes issue with something I write.
Yeah, yeah…get ovah it, Sista.
Oh…and something totally random for a Monday…
See this picture? (My sister is going to instantly recognize it) This exact “collage” (I’m not so sure what to call it….eek) hung in our house in our “Little Den” when we were kids. I’ve never seen another one like it…until yesterday.
This picture created the same reaction that happens to me when I hear a song playing in a store or something that I haven’t heard since 1978, yet, I know every single word, still. With this picture, I remembered every single detail about it…down to the name on the mailbox in the top row. (Mitchell)
The thing that’s even funnier to me about this is it’s highly possible this could be the exact same picture that hung in the Collie House in the 70’s. My mother used to have a Garage Sale every other year. If this was purchased at a Garage Sale, it’s likely it was ours. Ok, so it probably wasn’t, but, it’s a fun, albeit, weird thought though, isn’t it?