Batshit Crazy?

I used to work with a man who described me as ‘colorful,’ but I’m pretty sure what he meant was, ‘batshit crazy.’ In all fairness, I probably was batshit crazy during that time.

Once batshit crazy, always batshit crazy?

So, yeah…

But, maybe I’ve evolved. It seems like my crazy flag is laundered, folded, and put away in the third drawer down. Still there, but I don’t fly it every day. At least I’ve reached the point where I’m not ashamed of it anymore. That’s progress, right?

Having a reputation as being a little loopy isn’t all bad.  While I don’t consider myself a full-time emotional wreck nowadays (and you might not consider yourself an emotional wreck at all,) I’m telling you, there are benefits if others do… you know… consider you an emotional wreck.

I mean, like… for instance: if you complain enough about the cost of antipsychotic medication while wearing a little bit of oatmeal in your hair, people are less likely to ask your advice about, well… anything. That’s good because people who make a habit of asking for advice often make a habit out of assigning blame.

If someone considers you an emotional wreck, it’s unlikely that they’ll ask you to housesit. People may tell you that they don’t hire housesitters anymore because they have online, self-monitorable home security. But, they’re really afraid that you’ll go through their things; and maybe you’ll find the Crafting with Cat Hair book you gave them Christmas, 2011 hidden in the back of the basement closet. They worry that your feelings might be hurt and, also, that you might burn the Cat Hair book in their hand-carved, travertine bathtub.

Not that I’ve ever done that.

Another benefit? You don’t have to worry about being late for family meetings. They’ll start without you. For that matter, don’t bother showing up at all. The family meeting is probably about you anyway. If you don’t go, it will bolster family unification. I mean, they want to save you from yourself. It’s the glue that’s holding them together. Don’t take that from them. And God help if they’re planning a full-blown intervention. Not showing up will save you the hassle of 1) pretending to have an apocalyptic epiphany or 2) making a run for it, risking the chance that you’ll get tangled in the briars, which grow so thickly behind your parents’ house. (Remember, there’s poison ivy down there too.)

Not that I’ve done that either.

Yeah… and, nobody wants to carpool with you when they think you’re an emotional wreck. Ever notice how quiet people get when you say, ‘I’m a good driver.’ Ever wonder why people look at you like you poked them with a stick when you say, ‘Let’s just go in my car?’ It’s because they’d rather walk through a storm of burning frogs than get in the car with you.

I mean, drive off ONE bridge and, people hold it against you forever!

Anyway, if people think you’re an emotional wreck, you won’t be anyone’s emergency contact. Nobody is going to ask you to be a godparent, executor of a will, or to watch their food while they take an important call. They pretty much know that every time…. every single time, you’re going to eat their Mie Goreng noodles.

So, yeah… I guess I am… colorful.

3 Comments

  1. debora peerce

    I wish being ” colorful” worked for me. The boys still leave their children and pets with me for hours. I spent Friday correcting Jack pronunciation of curse words.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Lowly Worm

    Moms problem is she raised a handful of “colorful” individuals that started marrying “colorful” people and having their own “colorful” children.
    I prefer to think of our family as one big “colorful” rainbow.

    Liked by 1 person

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