Do you ever get sensitive? I get sensitive. It comes out of nowhere. Hits me like a truck. One minute I'm normal and the next minute I'm a Jenga tower on it's last legs [blocks?]. Someone says something and it's all I can do not to:
a. Burst into tears.
b. Throw up a huge wall of self-protection [a.k.a. bitchiest most sarcastic remarks ever].
It happened this afternoon. I'm just sitting at my desk opening the mail with a co-worker and BAM. Jenga tower. She makes some remark that's been dipped in a morning full of meetings followed by afternoon's worth of too much to complete today and I just about lost it. All my Jenga blocks all over the floor. But I held it together. I kept my cool. I let my sensitive self retreat as far inward as possible. I wrapped her up in cozy down blanket like prayers and sang softly to her.
I'm not sure what it is. I'd like to chalk it up to PMS, but that's the easy way out, and besides, that was last week. Maybe it's thinking about the past, [finally?] getting over the past. I think it should just be called Big Life Processing Stuff. I am in the midst of that. BIG TIME. And it is good. And it is a precarious Jenga tower. And it is broken and beautiful and scary and exhilarating.