Still infuriated that her 21st birthday, like all holidays, was uneventful; friends say she left the basement dance club in a swinging hysteria, insisting that they had changed its architecture at last call (adding new walls and eliminating the back entrance) AND that “they” had stolen her identity. Feels trapped when wearing socks to bed. Quite certain she is exceptionally easy to get along with, yet she has frequently been on the receiving end of flying objects…once after deflowering a nice young man. Apologies accepted. Sat on a hot electric stove (still safer than gas) to impress said young man. Bought a ringtone and assigned it to a person who hasn’t (and probably never will) call her. Thinks money was well-spent, regardless.
Bored. Anxious. Crushes like a tween. Texts like a teen (more addictive than her favorite drugs, as good as some sex). Gets lost in mind-numbing activities, like cleaning. Has a creepy passion for food, especially things that are gummy, gooey, or hard. Hates to cook. Loves to cook; hates to clean. Judges others for what they eat. Swears that frozen pot pies are the best whole meal value in any supermarket. Finds this consistent with watching reality tv. She’s “above it [all],” but allows herself the base pleasures of watching “Keeping up with the Kardashians” by justifying it as an academic pursuit.
Geography teacher. Gets lost easily. Doesn't believe in weather. Adamant that all plants should grow without fertilizer (or consistent watering). Has killed many. Convinced that medication will make her “go postal.” Father: letter carrier.
Now a mom, she can be found gaping in awe and crying at the miracle of child development, especially language-learning. Potentially channels a higher power. Hates the term righteous, but secretly knows it’s an apt self-descriptor. Evidence suggests she is very charismatic; is often invited to social events but convinces herself that people think she is either dull, ugly, or embarrassing to them. Backs out on nearly all plans made too far in advance. The same night, may be seen headed to a bar alone. Wants a simple life: a garden and a nice, clean companion. Feverishly attracted to everything but, as her level of interest roughly approximates her company’s degree of psychotic or revolutionary thought. Develops elaborate potential dialogues and endpoints for relationships; sometimes intentionally mis-remembers which of these actually occurred. Surprisingly, knows her limits: no tequila and no role play. Everything else is fair game.
Diagnosis: Libra. OCD. Egomania. Undiagnosed cyclothymia. Mild academia.
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