That was the last three or four months. This is Today.
Today, I got (sorry mom) royally pissed off. I got pissed off at the government, for sending me repeated notices that I needed to contact someone, and then sending me to voicemail. I got pissed off at the grant programs, who only offer school money to single moms who have never started secondary education. I got really pissed off at cultural differences that I don't understand and the people who are trying to make me just accept them. But mostly, I got pissed off at myself for putting up with it all.
Let's take a break.
I've been entertaining myself lately by reading comic strips, mostly 9 Chickweed Lane and Rose is Rose. Something I've noticed that these two strips have in common is that the main character women have alter-egos; it's a stronger, idealistic and fantastic version of themselves that they summon from within when faced with a difficult or frustrating situation.
Both strips have mentioned that every woman has an alter-ego. That would certainly explain the sudden urges I've had in the past to pull a non-existent switchblade out of my pocket, throw an imaginary hand grenade, and pretend to have laser eyes. All this time I've thought that it was just me wanting to be someone else. But this is Today.
Today someone else started calling the shots. It started when I caught a guy not-very-discreetly checking me out at the dollar store. I've been known to have effective glares in the past, but when I'd passed this guy bye, you'd have thought I shot him. Somehow I ended up in the cosmetic department where there was a sale on lipstick... red lipstick. Then there was the incredible urge to punch the gas at the green light. It wasn't till I got to the grocery store that I actually saw her.
It was in the produce section. I was putting sweet potatoes in a bag when it split down the side and sent the vegetable everywhere. She came out of no where, opened up a new bag and collected the sweet potatoes using her telekinetic powers, and moved on. I followed her through the store as she picked out (among other things) a steak for dinner and a bottle of Cabernet, until we got to the toiletries aisle. She looked me right in the eye and pointed at the bottom shelf, and there, with a thin layer of dust, was the red hair dye.
We didn't talk a whole lot on the way home. She likes Black Eyed Peas, Sean Kingston and Pink, wears all black and a mardi gra mask with gold scrolling on the left, no matter the occasion. When we got home she pointed out to me the pencil skirt that's been hiding in the back of my closet, and the earrings I never wear because I think they're too nice. She's going to be around, I think. Have I mentioned she's a red-head?
I've been feeling pretty useless lately. I've been feeling like a blob, a non-person, a shadow. But today I met myself at the grocery store. I'm not a super-woman, but my alter-ego is, and I'm going to let her drive for a while.