I think this is the fastest I've ever made it from driveway to keyboard. Something primal directs me to blog. For blogtopia is my home, and I need to be home- both in my nest of wood paneled cozy 70s-ness and my brain home of here/this/you. Sigh. The drama, let me drop it.. OK, plonk; dropped. There is no Big. I just have a wintry agoraphobic twinge and after-convo social anxiety.
Again, it's nothing, no Thing. I just unleashed a shit-ton of verbal diarrhea on a new coworker and feel a little bit like I think I would if I'd showed up to work in a sparkly bikini with the words "unmitigated freak mama" tattoed on my belly. This led to a drive home in which the following conclusions were reached:
1. People who have no censor on their mouths should also be the type of people who don't wig about what people think of them, and
2. People who want to be adored and loved and snuggled like puppies by everyone in the entire universe should have very mainstream, palatable opinions about everything. Very normal, broadly appealing ideas.
However, the rational part of me knows that I am just slightly shy but oddly talkative and being that all openly Daisyish is really not that fucking shocking at all. Still, I am passingly worried that she didn't grok that I was being ironic/self-deprecating and funny when I said "holler" instead of "hollow."