Epiphanies are Scary
I’ve said it before, but being home makes my brain go non-stop. Consider that a warning.
I spent part of Tuesday afternoon driving around Small Town’s back roads, listening to Christina and wasting the ridiculously expensive gas.
I drove past Project's house because I’m nosy and wanted to know if he came home for Christmas. The Mustang wasn’t behind the house, so I immediately wondered if he spent Christmas with that girl. The one that he was dating the last time I talked to him (in July). The one that he said he had considered marrying. Yeah, that girl.
This made my thoughts jump, irrationally, to K. K and I have a really weird relationship—if you can even call it that—making the connection between he and Project, my ex-fuck buddy and catalyst for rebellion, extremely weird. I forced the connection out of my consciousness.
I then inadvertently drove down a gravel road where I once stopped my car and jumped Iris in the passenger seat. I drove faster when I realized where I was, beating the hell out of my poor Mercury in my haste to retreat from the memories.
Before you read the rest of this post, remember that I warned you about my brain when I’m at home—and remember that you know I’m a crazy, obsessive freak.
When I got back to my house, I started watching season two of Gilmore Girls. Poor Rory and the Dean and Jess drama. Suddenly, it was scarily clear: I was Rory Gilmore, Project was Jess, and Iris was Dean. I pushed away “Mr. Perfect” in favor of the “bad boy,” and, in the process, massively screwed myself over.
It was then that I realized that my insanity has reached such a level that someone should commit me.
Or maybe I shouldn’t watch fourteen episodes of Gilmore Girls in two days.
Scratch that. I love those girls, I’ll watch whatever I want.
Maybe they’ll put a DVD player in my padded room.
I spent part of Tuesday afternoon driving around Small Town’s back roads, listening to Christina and wasting the ridiculously expensive gas.
I drove past Project's house because I’m nosy and wanted to know if he came home for Christmas. The Mustang wasn’t behind the house, so I immediately wondered if he spent Christmas with that girl. The one that he was dating the last time I talked to him (in July). The one that he said he had considered marrying. Yeah, that girl.
This made my thoughts jump, irrationally, to K. K and I have a really weird relationship—if you can even call it that—making the connection between he and Project, my ex-fuck buddy and catalyst for rebellion, extremely weird. I forced the connection out of my consciousness.
I then inadvertently drove down a gravel road where I once stopped my car and jumped Iris in the passenger seat. I drove faster when I realized where I was, beating the hell out of my poor Mercury in my haste to retreat from the memories.
Before you read the rest of this post, remember that I warned you about my brain when I’m at home—and remember that you know I’m a crazy, obsessive freak.
When I got back to my house, I started watching season two of Gilmore Girls. Poor Rory and the Dean and Jess drama. Suddenly, it was scarily clear: I was Rory Gilmore, Project was Jess, and Iris was Dean. I pushed away “Mr. Perfect” in favor of the “bad boy,” and, in the process, massively screwed myself over.
It was then that I realized that my insanity has reached such a level that someone should commit me.
Or maybe I shouldn’t watch fourteen episodes of Gilmore Girls in two days.
Scratch that. I love those girls, I’ll watch whatever I want.
Maybe they’ll put a DVD player in my padded room.
Labels: boys, my insanity, television
posted by nicalyse @ 2:17 PM
1 Comments:
Epiphanies ARE scary. I'm usually in class when I have them though, so I end up gasping out loud and having everyone look at me like I'm crazy. Not so great. Anyways, you are not crazy or obsessive. You had Gilmore Girls on the mind, so it's natural for you to compare it to your own life. I've done it before...And if you ARE crazy and obsessive, at least you have a good attitude about it. ;) I'm hoping for a DVD player in my padded room as well. That'd be nice.
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