(As in “what the f@#! is wrong with you????”)

(Previously posted.)

I think too much and always have… if one is to believe folks like parents, teachers, employers, friends, and lovers, that is. I don’t even have a problem admitting to it. So what? Despite over analyzing most things in my life and frequently giving the impression of having an overly serious nature, there is a part of me that is completely and wholly irreverent. I have just never really taken myself all that seriously. Not for very long, at least and not in small part because I have learned that when I have been tempted to do so, whatever alternate universe is responsible for keeping me humble has systematically set me up as a source of great entertainment.

The way I see it, analyzing everything under the sun tends to keeps my mind busy. As a rule, a busy mind is a good thing because usually it keeps me out of trouble, although there certainly are exceptions. You see, I’ve got this little…quirk (for lack of a better word). It is a bit difficult to explain, but I shall try. There are just times in life when situations become ridiculously serious… far beyond what the circumstances call for. In such instances, I have been known to do things…things so totally inappropriate and uncalled for that frequently the reactions of others run towards “WTF?” (As in “what the fuck is wrong with you????”)

Not infrequently, the recipient or observer of my actions is left standing there in stunned disbelief and horror, torn between filing a PINS (person in need of supervision) petition with the Court and giving me a lecture for my behavior. While they are left grasping for an appropriate reaction to my inappropriate action, I am often collapsed in a fit of laughter marveling once again at how ridiculous we humans can be in our pompous self-righteousness. I’m human, like everyone else, and I find myself to be a great source of amusement… with all of my character flaws, my needs, my desires, my vanity and my imperfections. Get over it already.

The truth is, every person who takes himself seriously would like to be taken seriously by others. However, whether or not one achieves this desired result necessarily remains uncertain and ambiguous.

Shakespeare wrote…

“With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit,
As who should say ‘I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!’" - Merchant of Venice.

Even if the canine audience were to fall silent, the human reception of the Oracle would likely range along a spectrum from reverential awe to hysterical derision.

As for me, I’m going to take a pass on worrying where along the spectrum I am viewed and instead view myself as a sum of parts. I’ve answered to “silly girl” more than once in my lifetime, and will do so again.

So you see it isn’t about you at all. Sometimes it really is all about me. Some of you just aren’t getting that.