Thursday, March 24, 2016

I Like To Call It....Hypervigilance..

One of my friends asked me yesterday if I ever get kinda paranoid in my relationship. Short answer: Not so much paranoid as suspicious. Extremely, yet rightfully suspicious. By the time I finished "reassuring her", I could see her filing a restraining order against me in her mind. I'm not crazy...I'm just very open to every possibility imaginable. Which is ironic..why? I'LL TELL YOU WHY!

Some people like to believe that stupid saying that goes something like if your spouse accuses you of cheating, they are probably the ones cheating. I'm not saying this might not happen but I am saying if this was a hold fast, rule of thumb, my life would be a whole lot cooler. Not really the cheating part but if I was doing everything I thought my husband was doing part. Such as:

1. Secret underground gambling ring
2. Government plant to document and report my actions to the CIA.
3. Reptilian
4. Figment of my imagination
5. A cast member in some kind of weird Truman show where I am Jim Carrey aka Truman Burbank
6. Secretly filing for divorce
7. Hiding various clothing items of mine
8. Serial killer, at large
9. Coma husband. Where I've actually been in a coma for several years and created this life in my mind.
10. Time traveler
11. Secretly a really good musician

and on, and on, and on. Why I say this ironic is because I am one of the sketchiest mother truckers I have ever met. I will go missing in the house and when he finally finds me, hiding in the basement or shed or garage, I look like a surprised slow loris, throw my phone on the ground and stomp it into a million pieces. Or sometimes I leave the house and he'll casually ask, "Where are you off to?" and I'll just give him a Charles Manson stare as I slowly close the door. Maybe I'll be gone all day and he'll call and ask, "Where are you?" "UH...UH...UH...TARGET!" "Soooo that's not you in the driveway.....looking at me through binoculars..." "UHHHHHHH *throws car into reverse and squeals out of the driveway knocking over the garbage can* REPTILIAN!! YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!" Perhaps I'll be texting and he'll ask who I've been texting all night, "Uhhh..uhh..the pope! I mean...my mom? I mean...my work..mom..pope.." When really I've just been texting poop and murder emojis to my bestie for a half hour straight.
Slow Loris. They cute AF.

If he acted like I did, even a percentage of how I act, I would have implanted a tracker years ago. I don't really know why I do it, most of the time I'm completely innocent, the rest of the time I'm just looking up inappropriate stuff on the internet. Or singing. I do have this weird thing about him hearing me sing, I don't like it. But besides the singing, part time drug muling and weird internet stuff, my life is fairly tame. YES. I AM JUST COMPLETELY NORMAL. NOTHING TO SEE HERE, NSA.

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