What do you get when you cross the thrill of a roller coaster with a propensity to melodrama? A very confused woman who can’t tell her ass from her elbow. Eccentricity is a curse of advancing years, but I think I’ve now been able to take it to the level of a fine art. While I’m well versed with the frantic, wheel spinning, hamster frying your synapses, syndrome, I do believe this time, I’ve outdone myself. Someone should send for the little men in white coats (not sure why they need to be little..), but they’ll have to catch me first… bwaaahahahahahaaa…..
Does it worry people around me that not only am I demented, I seem to wallow in it? Should it worry me?? Given that I’m so overqualified, a self induced screaming free fall, followed by slow building anticipation in the pit of your stomach as you inch upwards towards the pinnacle just to plummet again, is child’s play. Well, at least, boredom isn’t something I have to worry about too much, not when I’m left to my own devices anyway…! My friends are mostly normal (occasionally, even well adjusted), so I can’t even blame it on an over exposure to a small band of social psychotics. I now have sort of sensible people (well, more sensible than I at any rate) slotted in my diary all this week to try and curb my baser instincts; see to my saw, yang to my ying, a concentrated shift towards equilibrium. And if all else fails, just thwack me on the side of the head……… 'Wo ho oo, O aaahm still aaaalive... wo ho ho...'
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