I’m feeling a little introspective tonight…we’ll see where this goes. I’ve been thinking a lot about my character lately—where I’ve come from, what examples of good humans surround me (and have been around me in the past) and about what I’ve done with what I know. I think it all boils down to my reaction to the playground injustice. (You know the story—you are on the playground, minding your own business, some idiot does something stupid and then, there you are, up against the wall for the rest of recess because the teacher decided to punish collectively.)There are two types of people in this world: one type accepts this punishment calmly, realizing that, at one time or another, he or she probably caused an incident resulting in recess grounding and that this is some sort of payback method; the other type screams ‘unfair’ and proceeds to tell the whole story, every minute detail, in order to escape punishment or to somehow render the whole world right again. I’ll let you guess which type I am. (Hint: it’s not the first one.)

If you still don’t have a clue, here’s some more evidence:

I can be a femi-nazi. I get worked up over the most inane things if they are even remotely sexist.

I’m angry. I’ve been working on this for at least 10 years, and it seems to get worse. I just need the emotional release I get from yelling or something. Unfortunately, I always seem to let it go around others.

At least once a week I want to completely submerge myself in a television drama (usually 2 or 3 episodes—thank you TBS—last summer it was Dawson’s; this summer it’s Ed) so that I don’t have to think about how much I suck. Or how much other people suck. Or how little of anything makes sense.

And that’s just three—I think if I thought of more I might have to watch TV all night.

I guess the point is that I think I am stuck in perpetual playground mode, and I’m the little girl everyone loves to hate—the tattletale. What more is a tattletale than someone who thinks her existence is more important than anyone else? The crazy thing is that I’m working so hard to perpetuate an existence for a person that I don’t even like.

By the way, this is Sara, not Danny. Please don’t call him tomorrow and ask if he needs to go to the nuthouse. As for me…you all have come to expect this by now.