Please, will someone run me over four or five hundred times with a steamroller, then maybe expose me to radiation for a year, put my feet in the stirrups of a runaway pinto and drag me face-down along Main Street, then run me through a hot wash and dryer with a good linen-setting ironing afterward?
Because, clearly, I need to get a little thicker-skinned. Maybe like a rhino or a crocodile or something. I need to toughen the fuck up, that's for goddamn sure.
Here's what I'm gonna lay all over you:
Now. Apparently.This person at my office, with whom I had tentatively
begun a friendship, has decided that we can't even be open about our FRIENDSHIP.
WTF?
So. Here's the life lesson in this: Just when you think you can't make yourself feel any worse about having to be someone's dirty little Wednesday-afternoon secret, stand back and wait a while. It WILL get worse. When someone has to keep the fact that you might be friendly with each other a deep dark secret, well my friends, let me tell you, it makes you feel lower than worm poo.
You see, I'm used to being proud to call someone my friend, and to have them be proud to call me theirs. I am so delighted with my friends that I can't WAIT for them to meet each other.
Every time Roni introduces me to someone new, she puts her hand on my arm and says, "This is my very best friend," in a warm and loving tone of voice that conveys to the other person that she really, really loves me.
Am I excessively thin-skinned? Or is this the kind of thing that should hurt my feelings?
You tell me.
No comments:
Post a Comment