Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Never Mind Me
Sometimes I feel like the Invisible Woman. Sometimes people talk around me, and I'm just not rude enough to say, "Hello! I'm over here, I can hear you."
Sometimes the people to whom I make valid complaints minimize them. That pisses me off. I'm not nuts; I don't imagine stuff -- except for the stuff I've gotten paid for imagining and setting down on paper. It kind of makes me feel diminished, you know?
Sometimes people downplay the things that I tell them are bothering me, as though it were nothing. I don't know if it's to save face on their part, but it pisses me off.
Why can't my own BFF, who spreads attagirls all over, toss one my way every now and then, maybe every second or third full moon? I am not above a hard-earned attagirl. Pisses me off.
Why do people at work habitually help themselves to things they find on my desk and take off with them, sometimes never to be seen again? That totally pisses me off. I don't liberate other people's junk, but maybe I should start.
If I'm going to be the Invisible Woman, then I'm going to be the Invisible Woman, and I want my own TV series. I'm thinking I should wear a swirly pink tulle skirt, probably pretty short, with a coordinating long cape in a darker pink -- velvet, of course. And a damn fine looking tiara, fiery sparkly enough to blind a lesser mortal. I'm not sure about pink tights -- that might not look too good on TV -- but pink boots with stiletto heels would be a must. I'm not going to date Batman because I think he's got something going on with Robin, which would render me the Invisible Date, but Iron Man's kind of cute.
I'll let you know when I get my channel and time slot.