the narcissistic nutter butter

I was assaulted by a crazy person today. She's a relatively pretty woman who oozes menace. The juxtaposition of pretty vs. crazy makes her almost diabolical, like I'm witnessing the manifestation of the devil (the devil is bleach blonde, wears colored blue contacts, and always puts on make-up before she works out... in case you are wondering). I may be exaggerating a little bit -- but only a little bit. The woman is a narcissistic nutter butter.

I've been a crazy magnet for a long time (apologies to my therapist friends for the insensitive language). Crazy people pick me out of throngs and tell me things about their old lovers, recite passages from the Bible, remark on my aura, ask me to marry them (4 separate occasions; 4 true stories). It's always made me worry I'm crazy, too, and just haven't caught on, yet.

And this assault came at a weird time, anyway. Commonly accepted image of myself as pleasant and likeable has been put to question over the last 8 months of newness. I guess it's easy to think of yourself as an easy going peace lover when you work by yourself in a classroom or spend your day doing assessments in a school supply closet for so long. The noise of other people is forcing me to exercise bits of self I didn't know were sleeping.

I've been feeling a buzz growing, and the crazy lady, I kind of felt, was spewing this crescendoing collective of anti-P sentiments. This made me feel crazier than I did before, and I really fought the urge to hide under my desk for most of the day.

But I'm not crazy. I just need to keep my mouth shut.

That's all.