1.3.00

I Am A Snappish Bitch (A Public Apology)

The writer sits and contemplates the forthcoming sentences pensively. The air is still and slightly warm; from the speakers of her computer pounds NIN's "Starfuckers, Inc.", and on the television, a random ad plays. In a room halfway across the world, a young man sits at his own computer, maybe confused as to why he's come home to a snappish bitch. Or perhaps wondering what he can find by way of breakfast.

Next to my easily baitable temper (see the archives, I can't be bothered finding it right now), one of my most detestable traits is probably my fluctuating ego. Sometimes - most times, in fact - it sits in the depths of low self-esteem, and it likes it there. It's warm and quiet, and no-one can see it. At other times, rarer times, it starts to feel as though it deserves more attention and more praise than it actually deserves. I end up saying things that are deliberately inflammatory and self-depreciating, in order to get attention. Sometimes when I do this, it's not for the sole purpose of getting someone to tell me how great I am. But when the fluctuating ego from hell has an upswing, that's usually what it is. And when the attention doesn't come... I turn into a righteous she-bitch.

I don't come right out and call other people names and actively become said righteous she-bitch. It's more subtle than that. I become stubborn. I retreat into myself and don't want to talk or be affectionate, and I don't respond to praise or kind words when it does come. I believe, then, that people are only saying nice things to lie.

So not only am I a bitch, I'm confusing as all hell.

The writer continues to sit at her computer. Now she is listening to about the only TLC song she can stand, wanting to apologise for her standoffishness. Her boy thinks that he's boring her, and she is feeling too stubborn to assure him that he is not.

Maybe I'll say that I'm sorry when we talk on the phone tonight.