“There’s a period of life when we swallow a knowledge of ourselves and it becomes either good or sour inside.” ~Pearl Bailey
During lunch, someone made passing reference to the current Presidential election. I looked up startled and realized that that moment was the first time in five days that I remembered that there was an election going on. I could feel my face contort to a look of visible surprise when Barack Obama was mentioned as if I had never heard of him ever in my life. And obviously I had forgotten all about my pseudo-infatuation and that time he remembered my name. Every conversation in regards to politics that I have had in the last five days has been solely about the activities in other people’s marriages. It seems that everyone has a ‘roving eye’. I say that I don’t care but I listen intently and sucked into it anyway.
Later in the afternoon I would relay to Susan the facts behind my day. Done in great detail and dripping with inflection to show that I meant business. That rush that comes when so much has happened in such a short amount of time and it just layers and layers until inevitable explosion. It was one hour of drama that reminded me of an episode of “24” but with less Chinese torture devices and more of my threat to ‘choke that motherfucker’ and feeling so goddamn pissed off that I literally walked around in circles muttering to myself and kicking little cherub statues.
In the evening I couldn’t wait to tell Metalia about something that had absolutely nothing to do with me. Of this I am more than well aware. But I still couldn’t help but want to say, “You will NEVER believe what was just said”. I realize that the current drama threat level of a situation is at orange and I give it a gentle nudge towards red. For no other reason than procrastination and boredom and it is far better than watching grass grow.
I am now up to my eyeballs in drama. Ensconced by so much of it that I can’t tell my head from my ass hole. Every other minute it is something new or someone else has said something. My gut reaction to be an enabler and claim that I don’t want to hear the latest and greatest most shocking thing only to lean in closer as if saying “But test me! See if you can shock me just a little bit more today than you did yesterday! Go on, TRY.” There is that natural inclination to want to know even if there is no reason to know. To dig and find out the details. To discern the fact from the fiction and then circulate the ‘truth’ or what is perceived as truth to the masses. For clearly, everyone and their brother should be in the know. Meanwhile, in the back of my mind, I realize that I shouldn’t care and I should stop enabling people and employ the ignore method but my inclination is to want to hear the story. So instead I employ the rock/hard place metaphor because while I shouldn’t care, I do. And while drama makes my head spin and there are way bigger things going on, I am still intrigued by the most mundane bullshit.
In the morning I wake up and write it all down for myself only to realize that more than my ass, this – not giving a shit – is something that I should be working on.
10 Comments
I have NO idea what you are talking about.
And yet sadly, it makes me long for my younger days when my life was full of interesting gossip and drama and not baby announcements and Southern Living parties.
HAAAA. I’m with Slynnro. I have no such drama in my life now that I’m older. None. Oh, the early twenties were so fun, drama and all.
Incidentally, I keep forgetting that there is a presidential election, too, and it PISSES ME OFF. It’s dragged on so long that people forget how passionate they once were (me, included), which can’t bode well for us (and by us, I seem to think I’m BFF with Obama).
I’ve been working on “not giving a shit” for so long that I think I stopped giving a shit about working on it and then I just eavesdrop a little more.
Everyone else’s drama makes me feel better.
I’ve yet to forget what a major election we have coming up, but I’m more surprised by people who’ve forgotten — or don’t even realize we’re in a war.
I cannot look away from the Drahmah. It is like a gigantic train wreck in my front yard.
Or like being in sixth grade again. Probably more like that, actually.
I definitely have a history of missing out on all the “good stuff,” drama-wise. I suppose that’s for the best, seeing as half the time when something is dramatic, I don’t even recognize it as such. And then, when NOTHING is dramatic, I make it so, just to drive myself crazy I think. I do like me a good US Weekly from time to time, though.
If there wasn’t mundane bullshit, there wouldn’t be any bloggers.
I personally love shoving my head into the sand otherwise, I implode and start looking for delightful shacks that are hidden in the hills while collecting various fire arms and water rations.
Because I’m an alarmist.
My life is so completely drama-free. Except for last week when MY INLAWS SHIT ON MY HEAD.
Apart from that? I am clueless as to gossip and drama. And I like it.
I spent WAY TOO MANY years ensconced in the drama. I do not miss it in the least.
Woah! Angella cursed! It MUST have been bad!!
And?
Yah, I jumped on the drama wagon with it too (IF it was the same thing you and Metalia were talking about when I was on with her)
I couldn’t help it. It pissed me off, even though it had nothing really to do with me.
I get too involved. :S