cat lady.....

So i've been.....emotional lately. While i was cleaning, or something, i was plotting this post in my head, and have decided to try and write it before i take a shower. (the problem with being an employment skills instructor is that you really ought to practice what you preach- i.e. personal hygiene, thus i shower now perhaps more often than i used to). There's a small voice in my head saying that perhaps i oughtn't to even post something like this onto the world wide web- and an even larger voice saying it' s my blog and, barring terrible horrible no good very bad things (name that book), i should be able to post whatever i want. Caveats aside, away we go.

Perhaps i should preface this with the fact that i've been blissfully unemotional lately, thank and praise God!!!!! Oh, there were the feelings of low self-esteem caused by e's foray into a new dating relationship, and there's the occasional blowup, but, thank and praise God!!!!!!! for all!!!!!!!!! none of this compares with the emotional storms of the past. Most of the time i'm rather happy, and sailing an even keel, no night terrors, no freak outs, and a somewhat sunny view of life. So erase that first sentence, and replace it with, "so today i've been kind of emotional".

now not all emotions are bad. Sure, this evening i've had my share of snippishness and malaise, but earlier was quite fun. There's a reason, i know, why i've been more emotional today. i have no immediate plans of using my uterus for an incubator, and it's making its monthly protest of this decision. This is usually accompanied by varying levels of emotional upset- ranging from little to no, to the infamous superhero, the nefarious "super-mood".

One thing which is relatively standard, however, is a certain tendency to be..... how to put this delicately..... on the prowl. No i've been blessed, i'd say, with an unusually low sex drive. That is to say, as a general rule, i'm not overly tempted to make out with someone, or even kiss someone, and the idea of going further is forbidden enough to hold very, extremely, incredibly, little allure. As a general rule, i'm about as cuddly as a porcupine. Though i have been known to enjoy the odd evening leaning against a guy, watching tv and talking while sharing a blanket (fully clothed and not laying down) on the couch, the enjoyment comes more from a feeling of comfort and being liked, i daresay, than any true pleasure from the physical touch. Like wine, i enjoy what physical touch represents, more than the substance itself. During the scheduled uterine protest, however, i have to watch myself , or i might catch myself flirting crazily with any unattached male who catches my fancy. Flirting, unlike physical contact, is something i enjoy on a regular basis. This turns it up a notch (or two, or three, or four). The infamous "marcus night", the closest i've ever been to toying a little too far with the physical line (for which i've thanked and praised God since i didn't get myself in trouble, as sneaking down to flirt rampantly with a drunk guy is not the safest thing i've ever done), led not only to the nightmare that is at least partially responsible for curing me of such nights since, but to my morning revelation of "oh, no wonder i acted like that". i now try to guard against this a mite bit better.

Enter the man i went to assist in proctoring an official test today at work. Cute, a fun sense of humor, a fellow instructor, nice eyes, successful, and wearing a silver ring. Yes, i checked. Yes, i then checked the ring fingers of other men in the room, and did the mental calisthenics to see if "the" ring was indeed on "the" finger. Much to my dismay, it was. Yes, i checked again. Yes, it was still there. Okay, this makes him off limits for flirtation. (Though any other time i might have reasoned that as a co-worker he probably already should have been.) Here, to me, is the funny part. Were freud right about the parts of our subconscious, and i able to hear them, i fancy the conversation might have gone something like this:
superego: Do not flirt. Do not check him out. Do not feel attracted to him.
id: but check out his eyes. they're pretty. do you feel the chemistry too?
superego: No. Back away from him. Avert your eyes. No flirting!
ego: but in id's defense, it's rude to look away when talking to someone. Wait? Did he just say something important?
memory: Don't worry. Got it! Could you please pay attention though?
superego: Yes- pay attention. This is important. Remember, we're at w-o-r-k, and that's a wedding ring.
ego: but it's not gold like the other guys'. maybe it's a pretty ring he just likes to wear. or maybe.....
id: ooh, let's daydream about this, he only wears it to discourage women hitting on him.
ego: like us you mean?????
id: yes, crap. i mean no, like other, sketchy women.
superego: it doesn't matter, a ring on that finger means he's married, and thus off limits. now shut up id and step away from the man.
id: it wouldn't hurt to flirt a little. harmless.
superego: ahem. we are Christian. no flirting. period.
id: then tell ego to stop playing along.
ego: it isn't gold you know..... but some men do have silver rings.....
superego: no means no. and that's final.
ego and id: awww, okay.
scene 4: the departure and the handshake
id: oooh, was there chemistry in that handshake?????
superego and ego: shut-up id!!!!!
cue laugh-track from audience. roll credits. next month, on as the flirt turns, an unmarried man.
well, it amused me. now on to the shower.