Instances in which my thoughts run amok:
When a younger-ish, good-looking guy randomly steps in to help me load my groceries in the car: Okay, this is nice. Am I going to be kidnapped as I close the door? What kind of psychotic guy is this??? Does he work here? What does he want? I bet he’s psychotic. He really must be a nut!
What I say: “Thank you!” Then jump in car and reach for my knife, because I’m just hot enough for a younger-ish guy to want to kidnap.
When a younger-ish, good-looking guy flirts with me: Are you f’ing kidding me?! I could be your, well not your mother. Just because you’re younger-ish does not mean I am old. I bet he’s married. Scumbag, are you married?! Married with small children. I will not be a mother to your demon spawn! He must be psychotic. That is clearly the problem here.
What I say: “Um, no. No in more ways than you probably want to know.” Spoken with a crazy-eyed look because the fear of demon spawn belonging to a person with a penis, who wants me to help raise them, is still lingering in my head, and it is much higher than the fear of the other psycho, kidnapping me.
When the dermatologist tells me my skin looks great: :::suspicious look::: Sure it does, I’ve been drinking a freakin’ gallon of water a day!! I should be f’ing glowing right now! As bright as the sun… glowing hot! Then I think, but I have a zit, see it, right here, a zit! A zit during my midlife crisis! Oh my GOD I need microdermabrasion! I need a facial. I need to feel young again!!
What I say: “Thank you…” without looking up. I am beginning to realize I have social skills issues, which sucks because I realize I’m not looking up, AFTER I walk out of the office. The neurotic in me rehearses how I should have appropriately responded.
When I realize on a plane trip that I have my pants on inside-out: OH sh*t! You have got to be f’ing kidding me (<~~~this is a favorite line of mine. You will see this line a LOT)!!! I really have no excuse for this. I mean, I only woke up at 4am. I only put on those damn compression hose things for the first time in my life because I’m getting OLD. I only tossed on my most comfortable yoga pants… inside-out!! There is something wrong with my brain.
What I say: I lean over to the wife and whisper : “My pants are on inside-out! I am changing as soon as we hit the airport. You will wait for me, and you will not complain…” “Stop looking!”
This is just a smattering of the things that go through my neurotic, midlife self. It’s exhausting, really.