Recipe for Disaster

(today's Monday Mission--a post in the form of a recipe)

Preheat broiler.

In a large mixing bowl, combine:

1 lb temperamental perfectionist
1 lb sensitive conflict-avoider
3 tbsp stubborness
1 WBBE, BN

Add:

1 tsp compulsion
1/2 cup suspicion
3 oz. evidence, sifted
3/4 cup denial, firmly packed
2 cups aged conflict, finely grated

Mix until even.

Spread in 10"x2" baking dish.

Broil for 5 minutes.

Place stick of dynamite under oven, and detonate.

Serves two.

~~~~~

Thank you to everyone who commented and emailed yesterday. I appreciate it.

I'm fine. Really. No, not good; but I'm fine. I owe one or two of you an apology, because I tried to let IRL friends who read the blog know about it beforehand and (*ahem*) I didn't get all of you. I'm sorry.

Here's the thing--

The poker face doesn't actually come off.

I know this makes me a freak, and I am mostly ok with that; but please don't be offended if I don't take you up on your very generous offers of shoulders for crying on or ears to spill into. It's not that I don't appreciate them, or the motivations that underpin them, or understand that for most people letting the guard down and being not-fine would be a considerable relief. There's a reason that not even my close IRL friends knew this was coming--with one exception--and there's a reason for the lack of caterwauling and carrying on now (note the abrasive tone? It's not voluntary). I can't. And if I did, I would feel worse, not better.

Case in point: I went to a friend's birthday party Saturday night, and had a great time. Except that I forgot to get her a present. I don't think I acted that much outside my normal character, especially considering that my insulin pump ran out of insulin right before the cake. I'm not in any way claiming that this is normal, or healthy, but I want to make sure that no one feels slighted when I don't take them up on their offers. Once again, it's not you; it's me.

And really--well, it's not Darfur, is it? This happens all the time, to all kinds of people, and if I keep my head on straight I'll get to the other side in one piece. I still have a relatively privileged and affluent life and I'm not going to waste brain cells in feeling badly for myself. Which is why I'm leaving--so I can stop wasting my brain cells in feeling badly for myself, and waste them in other, more pleasurable ways instead.

But thank you. I mean that.

Posted by Andrea at March 5, 2007 6:48 AM under Monday Mission

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