Forget Candy and Ronnie

Rissy is so spaced out.  Today has been nothing but a challenge for me to keep focused.  I have no idea what is going on in my head.  It would be easy to use allergies as a scape goat.  PMS has come and gone. So, that's a no go.  Besides, I read on the back of my tampon box that women are prone to heightened intelligence when they are menstruating.  TMI? Get over it. You're on my turf, baby.

At work there was an overwhelming cacophony; stimulus overload. Several voices entwined with a new printer alarm, machinery being operated, phones ringing, fax machines tweeting and buzzing. Add that to the droning sounds of monotonous pop radio.  Egads! I wanted to scream at everyone in my path like Sister Mary Elephant.  Seriously. My pulse was racing. All I wanted to do was run.  RUN AWAY from all the noise and discord of the day. 

This week has been emotional for me.  Apparently my status updates on Facebook had a couple of my friends concerned for my mental well being.  It was merely par for the course of having to say good bye, once again, to someone dear to me.  Just when I grow accustomed to a smiling face and gentle embraces accompanied by face to face conversations, I have to let it go until the next opportunity.  It's difficult but not completely unbearable.  Oh sure, it sucks with a magnitude of a thousand blazing suns.  No sense in sugar coating it.  But like so many instances in life, I have to buck up and deal.

Perhaps all these chemical reactions triggered by my emotions (or denial there of) are catching up with me and manifesting into spaciness.  All I can request is that people speak concisely, softly and one at a time.  Thank you.  I cannot make promises that pity will be taken on those who are non-compliant.  May God have mercy on your souls.

That is all.