|Representing a Fire Engine Truck|
|When you can't play Paint Ball... because, apparently its no fun to aim at a pregnant woman. Plus, I was a slow moving easy target.|
At times I would be crazy-ass angry on something so trivial that the last remaining logical part of my brain would reason with the hormone laced part. I'd recognize how tiny the issue was and try and be Gandhi about it, but the other half of my brain (which was more in charge right now) would be like a raging bull on adrenaline, looking for a fight, lashing out some inane trash talk (you wanna fight?! lets fight! come on!! Are you scared??!!).
On other days, I was gloomy. Like when summer holidays are about to end and homework isn't done, like when you overslept in the afternoon and it is dusk when you wake up, like when you just can’t find someone to share an apple pie and you don’t want the calorie guilt of an entire pie, like when you form a mental picture of how awesome you'd look in a dress you ordered online but in reality you look like a plump potato, like when you keep planning on Goa trips and they never happen, (you get the picture?). The nasty, grey gloom engulfs like an uncomfortable hug from a creepy person and you can’t shrug it off. It makes you wanna curl up with a soft toy even if you are not a soft toy kind of a person.
|Upset at being 'left all alone' while being admitted at the hospital. Only a pimple to give me company. SMH|
When the physical unpleasantness leaves you free, the mind starts with its games. Random thoughts cross your mind: Elephants are pregnant for TWO whole years? MAN they’re strong; those lady-elephants. Just imagine how bloody boring would it be- ‘so what’re you doing for New Years this year, Sammy? Pregnant. Next year? Still pregnant. Ok then (awkward silence).’