Admittedly, I get a bit stir crazy. There’s that feeling that I loathe; when everything is the same, and the complacency sits in. It’s the same, boring, monotonous routine that you experience every single day you wake up. I hate monotony, and I severely hate complacency.
So I changed my theme on my blog! The old one was a great theme, but it was a bit drab. After a while, at least to me, it felt like something out of an Edgar Allan Poe story. The dark, grey, bleak – meh. I was done with it, and I wanted something new. I think about my behavior if I were born and raised in the early 1900’s. Most likely, I would have been married to an exceptionally wealthy man, and in a bit of a hissy fit, I would have rip down and demanded new curtains. Or a pony. Likely a pony. I find that I think about this often. The “what if I live in this era?” and how I would behave. Perhaps I’ve watched Gone With the Wind one too many times, but I find Scarlet O’Hara’s behavior similar to what I would have likely been like had I lived in her time. Hissy fits. Stubborn. Bull-headed and able to survive.
So, it’s got me thinking a lot about behavior, and why people act the way that they do. Perhaps it’s because I’ve grown up a lot lately, but I was talking to a friend recently about, err – “things” — and I juxtaposed two situations that he is extremely familiar with from my life. He said something along the lines of “well, it’s because you’ve grown up.”
Grown up? Me? What is this “grown up” thing you speak of?
I used to be irrational. Hell – who am I kidding? I’m still irrational. The difference is that I used to be an impulsive irrational person. I remember in middle school a friend of mine introduced me to a friend of hers. Upon the customary introductions of “This is my friend, Sam” and “this is my friend, so-and-so” my friend followed up with “…and don’t piss Sam off. You don’t want to be on her bad side.” For some reason, despite this situation happening a rather long time ago now, it never really left me. I remember jovially laughing it off, and thinking to myself am I really that aggressive?
I prided myself, and still do, on being independent and opinionated. I pride myself on being knowledgeable and not fearing to ask questions when I don’t understand something. I’ve always been equipped with a rather quick tongue, but I’ve learned to control the word vomit a bit better. I’ve learned, most importantly, when the battle is worth it. I hate when people beat a dead horse into the ground. I hate it even more when they go so far as to dig a sixteen-foot-hole next to the horse to then shove it down in, while still kicking and screaming about it.