When anxiety attacks
|Just a few things that MAY cause anxiety attacks . . . If you're really special . . . Like say . . . Me, who we will refer to as "you" to keep a personalized account of my doings so that you can really feel in the moment and as with one with myself. (GOOD Lord there's a lot of pronouns in the above sentence. Are you feeling dizzy? Yes? Take a drink. Not dizzy? Take a drink anyway.)|
Weekly anxiety attack (Referred to as WAA from here on out- How vr vr apropos.): Camping. In nature and trees and stuff. Where random strangers have the ability to keep you awake at all hours of the night, and then the next group of random strangers have the ability to wake you up REALLY early. And you really don't sleep so well anyway.
WAA: Your wedding anniverary comes and goes and the highlight of the evening is when you and your spouse have the most fun making fun of the 40-something year old woman who was proclaiming quite loudly just how "fine" her stepson and his friends are all the while enjoying your meal inside the ONLY Thai restaurant in your quaint little town.
WAA: 80th high school reunion. Okay, not 80th- but kinda close. And you went to school in the land of silicone, inhuman-like white teeth, peroxide, and credit card debt. You can't, don't want to, and refuse compete, yet "you" still secretly hope that the dumb cheerleader who stole your boyfriend got fat and ugly and you are willing to pay insurmountable amounts of cash to witness this firsthand.
WAA: Swimming. Swimming can cause a whole myriad of problems that goes far beyond wearing a bikini that needs to be reminded it has a special place in society, and that is to stay in its designated place. Swimming means pushing teenage boys off boat docks into water. Who doesn't know this? And "you" know its like a LAW or something when they're all standing there next to the water, not even paying attention- Completely oblivous to their surroundings, that it IS your civic duty to give a great big shove. Oh. But please do take into account when playfully pushing teenage boys (whom might be the offspring of parents to where you resided for the weekend) that they may and JUST MIGHT have state of art, top of the line, cell phones in pockets. Uninsured, of course.
WAA: Offspring that come THIS close to drowning. So say that "you" have an irrational fear of water and especially seaweed which "you" know is completely unfounded (what is wrong with you anyway, freak?) and your 7-year-old son decides that he is going to jump off the raft 60 yards from the shore and swim to the beach . . . And then your son starts panicking and dipping under the water halfway between you (on the raft) and the beach?! What do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO? Well, obviously you beg drowning son not to make you save him which means diving into seaweed. When that doesn't work you decide to brave it, (drowning people can be so DIFFICULT), dive into the seaweed and save your son who repays you by trying to take you down with him. So after swallowing a few gallons of water, "you" end up saving your son but are so traumatized that you can't stop obsessing about the woulda, coulda, shoulda's. Saving lives is like. Hard.
WAA: Dictionary.com changed it's format and font and "you" are skeptical and are leery of the sudden change.
WAA: Speaking of LEARY, you realize that you have a crush on Denis Leary who is amazingly HOT (and Irish!) and that you have never been partial to tall skinny blonde guys. But then "you" remember that "you" at one time liked anything with two legs and the slightest whiff of testosterone. This comforting thought makes you completely at peace with the world.
WAA: You have only enough wine for two glasses at home when you return from said trip and living in the country means no liquor store in the vicinity and all of your friends who might possess vats of wine have not yet returned from vayCAY themselves. But "you" are vr vr blessed and you did afterall return to all animals alive and living- Including drowning 7 year-old-son and his older sibling to whom you also gave birth to.
Your life is vr vr good (Ya big whiner). So good that you have a submission for this week's theme of "run" at Illustration Friday.
She's late. She's late for a vr important date.
*Edited to add.
I refuse to stay up any longer and try to make this bl*g entry make any sense. It doesn't. It would help, however, if you were here listening to me talk. Then it ALL comes together and KINDA makes sense. If you knew me. Really.
(All the other retro images can be found at www.anntaintor.com)