Why Is It ...

… that people don’t notice that I prefer hanging out in groups of three because I can go nonverbal and they can entertain each other while I look at a tree or something

… that people don’t seem to get it that me ignoring you is me being nice to you

… that as a child I wanted to be included in everything but as an adult I want y’all to stop asking me to go out

… that my other spirit animal is a racoon … because we have dark rings around our eyes? Or because we like to eat junk food? Because we’re a bit chubby but somewhat cute and possibly rabid? Or because we will fight you for no apparent reason?

… that people need to stop asking me to meet up; half my neighbors don’t even know I exist

… that people don’t realize that my only social skills are laughing when I shouldn’t, telling a joke in an awkward situation,  and saying “You, too” when the server tells me to enjoy my meal

… that adulting means using the phone flashlight more often than I ever thought possible

… that, while it’s actually more, my three dominant personalities are the one who talks to much, the one who doesn’t talk at all, and the one to talks to myself like I’m a full-on podcast.

… that when my boss comes up with a project and looks for volunteers and I shout “Not it,” he is not amused

… that my new diet is a lot of salads, like last night … mostly tomatoes and croutons; well, one big crouton covered in tomato sauce and cheese. It was a pizza, okay? I had a whole pizza

Why Is It ...

… that at first I am really shy but get to know me and I become a podcast.

… that most people don’t know that an orgasm is one of the healthiest forms of stress relief so when I tell you to go fuck yourself it’s because I care.

… that when I hear women talk about bleaching their assholes, I always wonder if they pour it over his head or make him drink it.

… that as soon as I give someone the benefit, here comes the doubt.

… that at work I am always asked to do things for which I am not qualified … like being nice to fucking idiots.

… that if I’m ever known as “the one who got away,” it will be from an asylum.

… that I am such a “who the hell touched my stuff, never mind, I found it” kind of person.

… that I’m only just now realizing that my personality falls between Mother Teresa and Mother F*cker.

… that trying to understand some people is like trying to pick up a turd by the clean end.

… that my boss doesn’t understand that while I have decent problem solving skills, it’s in problem creating skills that I really shine.

Why Is It ...

… that, based on the amount of laundry I do every week, I starting to think there are people living here that I haven’t met yet.

… that we all have that one friend that  you need to tell “be nice” before introducing them to anyone new; and, yeah, I’m that friend who needs to be told.

… that if we’re only talking about looks I think I’m a good 7, but if you factor in sense of humor, personality and values I’m a decent 2.

… that when someone says to me, “I never see you around” I respond with, “I know, I make sure of it.”

… that friends need to know that if I don’t text back it’s because they didn’t say anything interesting.

… that I have only just realized that one aspect of adulthood is the rage I feel when they rearrange my grocery store.

… that some people will text me at 2AM asking what I’m doing , and I respond “I’m outside negotiating a peace treaty with a racoon.”

Why Is it ...

… that one one understands that the 'L' in my name stands for Leave me alone.

… that people don’t listen? I once spoke to a client over the phone who told me I was much friendlier and far more helpful than the person they had spoken to the day before … who was also me.

… the people need to learn that no one can get on my nerves like everyone.

… that the older I get the more I appreciate being out of the loop. Don’t fill me in … I don’t wanna know anything about anyone.

… that as blunt as I may seem, I don’t say half of what I’m thinking.

… that no one understands that I prefer to live in my own little world and they need a wristband to enter.

… that I don’t clear up any rumors about myself since I probably did do it, and if I didn’t, I might.

… that I don’t buy more piñatas; like, right now, I would love to beat the crap out of something and then eat a bunch of candy.

… that I am the nicest rudest most caring nonchalant I don’t give a f*ck person you’ll ever meet.

Why Is It ...

… that people keep talking about the flu but the only thing I’m fighting these days is the urge to call out of work every single day.

… that staying to yourself and not bothering people bothers people.

… that no one understand that my posts are not directed at any one person, but if the shoe fits, wear it Cinderella.

… that whenever someone says, “I like your personality,” I always say, “Thanks. I have more.”

… that I don’t dust my house because I believe we come from dust and we return to dust and that dust on my coffee table might be someone I know.

… that no doctor will allow me to get my glasses prescription placed into my windshield.

… that I just realized that the reason Carlos is the perfect  person to gossip to is because he won’t tell anyone what I said since he wasn’t listening in the first place.

… that when people say I’m acting crazy, I have to remind them that I am not acting.

… that I’ve reached the age where I don’t need an alarm clock to wake me up; I have a bladder that does that.

… that I truly think I can generate electricity with how irritated I can get at times.

Why Is It ...

… that one of my biggest flaws, when I ask someone their name, is that I forget to listen to what they say.

… that if you find me offensive, then I’d suggest you stop finding me in the first place.

… that y’all need to remember if Drunk Me said or did something rude and mean, you gotta take it up with Drunk Me. Don’t come at Sober Me; we weren’t there and we don’t know what happened.

… that the conversations I have with myself while I’m folding laundry are especially deep.

… that no automated messaging system realizes that I will press 0, and continue to press 0, until I get a representative.

… that you cannot text me once a day like I’m a vitamin.

… that one minute you’re young and fun and the next minute you’re turning down the car stereo to see better.

… that when a friend says to me, “Oh that’s so mean, I can’t say that,” I say, “Give me the phone.”

… that they call me 007 at work because I have 0 motivation, 0 skills, and take 7 bathroom breaks a day.

… that Facebook doesn’t let you laugh at a Friend Request.

Why Is It ...

… that I need 10 incomes for the lifestyle I have in my head.

… that people who abhor swearing get angry with me because I can formulate an intelligent sentence and still throw a motherfucker in just for the Hell of it. Learn to juggle people.

… that people don’t get it when I say I can’t go out because the cats expect me home at a certain hour.

… that you may call them ‘Red Flags’ but I call them Ten Fun Facts you don’t know about me.

… that my car will be on Empty and I’ll drive past 4 gas stations and just go home.

… that I always see adults pour a glass of wine and fill it only halfway and I think, ‘One of us is doing this wrong and I think it’s you.’

… that holding back my sarcastic replies takes nearly all my inner strength.

… that I’ve been feeling a little moody and run down lately, so I looked up my symptoms online. It’s adulthood … I have adulthood.

… that when people wonder if I can be any more annoying, I always say, “Oh god, yes!”

… that they say right before you die your life flashes before your eyes. If that’s true, I hope it includes the blackouts because that would be like bonus footage and deleted scenes on a DVD.

Why Is it ...

… that I wouldn’t call myself quirky but there is definitely something wrong with me.

… that my boss asked me why I was gone for seven hours to smoke and I told him, "It was a brisket and that’s how long it takes. What?"

… that curly fries are my favorite snack because they are salty and spiraling … like me.

… that there are people my age out there climbing mountains and running marathons and zip-lining, and I’m here at home reveling in the glory that is getting my leg through my underwear without toppling over.

… that while I may not have lost all my marbles I admit there’s a small hole in the bag somewhere.

… that in the old days my taste in dates was so bad, that my Walk of Shame was on my way to the date.

… that you can burn all the sage you want but still you don’t understand that I will be back.

… that people at work are mad that I have taken to calling everyone “fucker.” I mean, when you think about it, “fucker” is gender neutral so I'm being politically correct.