It sucks that I have all these guys who want to fuck me but not one of them will help me move the bed they fuck me on.
Have you ever been out in public with someone who has social anxiety?
I’m, like, stealth, ninja bomber, zipping in between isles… trying to hide out behind the end caps and various other pop up displays. The object of the game is to avoid making eye contact with other human beings at all costs.
Like a cat who thinks hiding her head under the sofa means no one can see her.
Or the ostrich who buries her head in the sand… although, she’s really looking for food, which, coincidentally, anxiety girl is too.
Because that’s me. Anxiety Girl. One of many.
Able to jump to conclusions in 0 to 30 seconds.
Able to second guess every thought, word, and action until they mean something utterly different than what was intended.
That’s my super power.
And… it’s especially difficult with a social butterfly of a 6 year old daughter in tow, who tells her life story to anyone who will listen.