Friday, February 3, 2017

I blame the Prozac.

Weird people are the best kind. However, when you get called weird on a daily basis, sometimes multiple times, there are things to consider. Am I too weird? In the future dystopian society that I'm positive will arrive in my lifetime, will I be cast out of said society?

Usually when I fall asleep in the middle of the day for 13 hours or drink so much vodka that it is perpetually seeping out of my pores, I blame the Prozac. It's difficult to blame anything but yourself, though, when it is truly your weirdness coming out in all its glory. Here are a few examples of past behaviors that are apparently considered "weird."

I had a job interview at a book store last summer. I was super nervous and to make matters worse there were two interviewers rather than one. It was hotter than hell in this little room and they sat me on one of those metal chairs that's got, like, a vinyl cushion on it for your butt. My dress kind of came up when I sat there for what seemed like forever and my thighs were sweating hardcore. I couldn't concentrate on the interview because I was thinking about how when I stood up they would see the two giant pools of thigh sweat. Finally, when the interview was over, I decided the best thing to do would be to inform the gentlemen that I had left sweat on their chair because, (and this made perfect sense at the time), they would see it when I left and think I was gross. Another plus to my mentioning the thigh sweat would be an example of my honesty and integrity, which would surely get me the job. So I got up, shook hands with them and said "Hey, I sweat a lot on your chair." They said "Uh...that's ok." I said "Do you have a rag or something? I can clean it up." They said "No."

I didn't get the job.

The other day at school I was sitting next to this guy that I kind of know but not really. He seemed cool so I gave him a mint. I looked at the nutrition facts on the mints and it said a serving size was 14 mints. 14! I then proceeded to explain to my classmate that the serving size was 14 mints and would he mind eating 14 mints? He agreed so I counted out 14 mints. He ate them and said his mouth was "very minty." In my opinion, he's the weirdo in that situation.

Tonight at work this guy shows up at, like, 9:45 and wants some meat cut from the deli in which I work. We were already shutting things down and it is really annoying when people do that but technically we were still open. He asked if I could cut him some meat and I said, "Yeah but it will be a bit because I've got to wait until the slicer components get out of the dishwasher. He said never mind and he would just get prepackaged meat. Then my coworker (whose opinion I highly value), said I sounded rude. It really bothered me and then I saw him at the check out. I power walked to the man and said "Hey, was I rude to you earlier?" He seemed surprised and said "No, you're fine." I said "Ok. I just didn't want you to think I was being rude." Then I power walked back to the deli (power walking is my only speed), and said "I told you so" to my friend. She said "You chased him down? Who does that? You're so weird."

One thing that I will admit is weird is my obsession with smells and the fact that I really want my boyfriend to smell what I smell. My nose is very keen and curious. Sometimes my armpits smell like mildew. I force him to smell them or else I will divorce him even though we aren't technically married or even engaged.

I blow my nose at least 20 times daily. My boyfriend hates snot. Therefore, after I blow my nose into what my mom refers to as a "snot rag," I wad it up and place it somewhere on his body. He freaks out. It's hilarious. I also throw cold water on him when he's in the shower. He always screams "What the hell?!" in this Hank Hill-sounding way. He's not very good at cursing.










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