Kill the Green Eyed Monster!

As a Red Sox fan, I have long been a fan of the Green Monster (the big green wall at Fenway Park) but the green-eyed monster that has been showing her ugly head around here the past few days, I am not a fan of her at all! Kill the green Eyed Monster!

What is it about jealousy (head singing ♪Jealous, Jealous again♪ The Black Crowes) that makes us so crazy? Or, I should say makes me so crazy? I am not a jealous person by nature, but every once and awhile…

And that was the case yesterday, suddenly, I went from ♪Life is Beautiful♪ by Sixx AM to the anger of ♪Break♪ by Limp Bizkit to the sadness of ♪Nothing Else Matters♪ by Metallica, to finally, today, the emptiness of ♪Hurt♪, the Johnny cash version.

And that’s, where I stayed all morning just drifting through my day, going through the motions, feeling as though I barely existed, wishing to talk to him, to have him ♪Wake me up inside…save me from the nothing I’ve become,♪ (by Evanescence) but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of me calling. I’ll show him, I thought. I’ll just sit here and stew and he’ll wish I would call, and he’ll say he’s sorry, and, and…

And, then he called me, and I answered with cool indifference (in my head: “take that, I’ll barely talk, and you’ll know how awful I feel, and how wrong you were”) but instead he said “I guess you’re busy, you’re not talking much.” frantically Thinking: “Well, duh! I’m upset with you! Don’t you remember?! Didn’t we have this big long discussion last night?!” more calmly saying: “not feeling well” he responds “how come?” I say “why do you think?!” in a completely uncool way!
Oh, great! Here come the waterworks! Yup, not feeling empty anymore! Feeling like a blubbering idiot! What is wrong with me?! Is that really Chicago in my head? ♪I can’t fight this feeling any longer, and yet I’m still afraid to let it show.♪ Yuck! Snap out of it! Be Cool! Play hard to get! Don’t do the crying thing! Ugh!

Of course, he is completely caught off guard by this. He thinks we have already resolved our misunderstanding, tells me I’m crazy, and I tell him, “that’s what all the guilty say” and he tells me, that I’m just being ridiculous! Doesn’t he know that calling a raving hormonal crazed lunatic, “Crazy” can not possibly help the situation?! That should be on the first page of the Men’s Handbook Guide to Women: “Do not call a crazy woman Crazy!”

At this moment, I am grateful, that this is a phone conversation, for were it not, with all the stylings of Cruella Deville (the Disney version, Glenn close was way to pretty) I would have jumped on him and rung his neck!


(♪Cruella Deville, Cruella Deville♪) It is this vision of Cruella driving like a mad woman in 101 Dalmations, that finally drives away the evil Green-Eyed Monster!

We are, then, finally able to really talk, and boy, do I hate hormones! All that for nothing!

Okay, well, it was a valid something, but, it really wasn’t anything.