So maybe, just maybe, people read my blog and think I'm an angry person. Apparently my mother is one of these people. Here's that conversation (and don't judge me, I couldn't get the proper format for dialogue in this program):
"Hey mom, I love you so much. Did you read my latest blog post? I hope it's to your liking. I
really only ever want to make you proud of me."
"I did, and I hate it. You seem so bitter and unhappy all the time. Why are you so angry? Why can't you be happy, and decent, and wonderful like my other daughter, who gave me my beautiful granddaughter who can also do no wrong in my eyes? Then maybe I'd buy you a horse, or put in a pool for you."
Perhaps that's not how it really went; and perhaps someday I will get over the fact that my sister had a pony when we were little, or that my parents just put in a pool for my niece. Stranger things have happened.
But you get the point - I have a penchant for exaggeration.
But you get the point - I have a penchant for exaggeration.
I'm a happy, loving, wonderful person who loves my life and family and friends and dog and on and on, I just love to exaggerate. Couple that with a low bull shit tolerance, and outspoken nature and this makes me seem a little angry sometimes; but I'm not... I swear... everything in life is great... honest...So lay off, mom!
Sheesh.
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