I just wonder.

I’m feeling fat, my face is breaking out, and I just got my period, hence the feeling fat and breaking out.

And then it was insinuated that I am weird, for the second time in a week. Hurray.

Just because I like to read, use big words sometimes, and think that grad school would be fun doesn’t mean I’m weird.

My job requires me to find spelling errors. It makes me anal. I can’t help that. Watch Pete at a restaurant or Cristin at Starbucks and you’ll notice the same thing. Also not weird.

The fact that I’m quiet sometimes because I don’t know people, haven’t figured them out yet, and have always been an observer in the first place . . . makes me myself. And I’m fine with that. I’m fine with not liking fake people, not being able to hide my feelings, and not wasting my time on people who I think are “stupid.” Maybe it’s not that they’re “stupid”. Maybe we just don’t have a lot in common, or I’m forced to be in the same room with those people at the same time against my will, or my friendship towards them was not reciprocated. Maybe I was hurt and I don’t trust people. Maybe I don’t like people at all. You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about me.

So stop pretending that you know exactly who I am, that you can pin me down. Because the other thing I don’t tolerate is bullshit, but maybe thats just what I’ve been getting all along.