A weak stomach.
I struggle sometimes to decide when I need to use my "face" personality, and when I should just be myself.
Take this morning at the local morgue, for example. We rode there chaffeured by Sam, as always, who seemed to be having a distracted day of driving. At least, more than usual. I tease him horribly about his recklessness behind the wheel, but it really isn't terrible. Most of my high school girlfriends drove faster and with more abandon. And they were usually talking on their cell phone, applying their lipstick, and popping gum while doing it. My life was in MUCH more peril with them than it is with him.
In any case, something about being in the car this day upset my stomach. I'd been ruthless to the boys that morning. My poor darlings. I don't know what they must think of me. Teasing just makes me feel...normal, and comfortable, I guess. We get to the morgue, and that "face" personality - the one that makes me saucy and flirtatious - it disappears. I realize I'm going to be looking at a sliced-up corpse, and suddenly my confidence in my normally tough-as-steel stomach evaporates. And so for one, brief moment...I let my true personality seep through. I asked my boys to watch out for me should my body fail me and decide to faint. And they seemed okay with it...this weakness I showed. I'm still not.
I didn't faint. But my uneasiness remains. And I can't for the life of me figure out why this psycho-maniac is striking out against certain Mindwreckers. We have GOT to find the pattern within the pattern. No more victims. No more bodies. No more research.
I don't know if I can handle showing any more...weaknesses.
Take this morning at the local morgue, for example. We rode there chaffeured by Sam, as always, who seemed to be having a distracted day of driving. At least, more than usual. I tease him horribly about his recklessness behind the wheel, but it really isn't terrible. Most of my high school girlfriends drove faster and with more abandon. And they were usually talking on their cell phone, applying their lipstick, and popping gum while doing it. My life was in MUCH more peril with them than it is with him.
In any case, something about being in the car this day upset my stomach. I'd been ruthless to the boys that morning. My poor darlings. I don't know what they must think of me. Teasing just makes me feel...normal, and comfortable, I guess. We get to the morgue, and that "face" personality - the one that makes me saucy and flirtatious - it disappears. I realize I'm going to be looking at a sliced-up corpse, and suddenly my confidence in my normally tough-as-steel stomach evaporates. And so for one, brief moment...I let my true personality seep through. I asked my boys to watch out for me should my body fail me and decide to faint. And they seemed okay with it...this weakness I showed. I'm still not.
I didn't faint. But my uneasiness remains. And I can't for the life of me figure out why this psycho-maniac is striking out against certain Mindwreckers. We have GOT to find the pattern within the pattern. No more victims. No more bodies. No more research.
I don't know if I can handle showing any more...weaknesses.
posted by Sari Mitchell at 7:51 AM
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