I know I trade what I want for what I need. We always trade but I believe few of us want to acknowledge it. What am I trading today? Or has simply the addition of children made the trading endless. I understand why Woolf wanted a room of her own.
Should the mentally ill get handicap spots at the store? I mean crazy is a handicap of mine. I take a great deal of time, therapy, money and medication to attempt to stay on the sane train. I just feel like a perk here and there would make me feel special. It is hard work keeping my bipolar, ADD, insomniac, anxiety-ridden self on the straight and narrow so a shorter walk here and there may lighten the load.
P.S. And yes, I know they are for handicapable people (a term the special education teacher at my school says is correct) that can’t physically handle long walks and I am not trying to belittle or make light of that issue. I am making fun of myself and my handicap.
You are critical because I am critical. I will be criticized as I hear your thoughts with so few follows. We all have so much to tell that our stories often feel tedious and mundane. Nothing original going on in our head. Is originality truly possible? Hasn’t it all been said before so perhaps we look for new ways to describe the original. Make it seem new again. Hold it up to the light to see a new fascet that illuminates our mind for a brief moment. Reminding us of essential truths. We matter even if we walk alone.
I know you are sane because you do not hold 32 twelve-year-olds hostages in a small room to teach them to read and write every weekday. I have a severe mental illness because I choose this as a profession and most days find it entertaining. Twelve-year-olds have the annoyingly, astounding, ability to forget everything every 24 hours. Their brains are akin to an etch a sketch with a sassy attitude. So why am I sure you are not mentally ill? Because you don’t teach children, 148 kids, the language they NATURALLY SPEAK but can’t pass a test on, and I call that sanity.
Your giant bedbugs will only leave because you divorced it. A bedbug is something that wakes you throughout the night with its bloodthirsty teeth. My bedbugs teeth are huge and have a little droll coming from one side. It has only bit me for fun but it makes threatening noises all night keeping me awake and sucking me dry of sleep. I try to turn it over or shove a pillow under its head and, occasionally, on to its face but it is to no avail. The bedbug must be fumigated to sleep in another room or divorce will be its only option.