Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Surly Thou Jesteth

How does one handle a jest...when you aren't really sure it actually was a jest?

Perhaps "jest" isn't the correct word.

For the life of me I cannot remember what word was used, but it was something like did I "bully, nag, hound" this person to get a positive response.

I had not.

In fact, the woman in question brought up the subject. Not I.

I'm a little put out over the idea that I would strong arm this very nice lady into a conversation concerning a not so important matter.

Actually, I'm a little put out about just about everything these days. I realize it's the anxiety of waiting on test results and the upcoming tour of the surgery theater that has me on edge. It's hard to fake being cheery when I really don't care.

There. I typed it.




Which is so not me. Not really. I'm not that person. I usually ooze sympathy and understanding (except when it comes to FIL that is), but somehow the vat of compassion in my soul has dried up and been blown away by the northern wind.

I am assuming that once the horror of these days pass, that my usually happy demeanor will return. Then, instead of allowing someones thoughtless words to fester in my mind, I'll simply laugh it off and move on to the next conversation. The problem is that in the not so distant future I have a meeting with two ladies who wounded my family in the past and I worry about my snarky tongue.

The elder lady has already taken me to task about a not so kind remark about spending time with an idiot. She was right, of course, it was unkind of me to point out the obvious conclusion of the Berkley woman's idiocy. Truly, what was I thinking?

Oh, perhaps I was simply jesting....Yeah, that's it.

At any rate, I find that I'm being overly sensitive and letting little things get to me. My tongue seems sharper than normal with those on the outside of my little circle. I'm fine with the family, but not so much with the irritating ladies around me. Some of them are just, you know how we girls can be at times.

I've just got to tough it out a few more days and take nothing to heart. I keep reminding myself that it's me, not them. However, I'm pretty sure that some of my "jesting" could be misconstrued as something not so nice and they'd be right. It seems my tongue has a life and will of it's own.


Thou shall not jest! Not even a little! And thou shall not throw a hissy fit without the opinion of a sane person.

Yesterday, during my pre-op, the nurse told me that on the day of surgery the nurse will offer me Valium or something along those lines. She told me to take it because it will relax me for surgery.

I'm thinking they should have given it to me YESTERDAY, simply for the good of humanity.

1 comment:

patti said...

as one who has endured the surgery tour o'NOT-FUN, i will advise you such: take the valium! and if they'll let you, ask for an umbrelly drank in one of those 7-11 Kegger Cups! fine, i'm jesting (or am i?!) about the drank.

you are in my prayer book. i will lift you up daily. now go take that pill.