Tangled Brain Spaghetti

Last night, Missy and I got into an argument of sorts. I was being bratty about the people at Sherwood, and about my job and my life, and she told my I was being unfairly judgmental. How annoying. I told her I was allowed to have feelings, and that SHE needed to stop judging ME.

As I drove home and frustration overwhelmed me, I threw myself a pity party--I blew up neon balloons of bitterness and drank "poor me" punch. I am really good at pity parties. Just before I drifted off to sleep last night, I had a feeling that I would wake up and realize that the reason I was so frustrated by this altercation was because I knew I was wrong. I hate being wrong.

Sure enough, I woke up this morning feeling sad that I had reacted that way. I knew that she was right to tell me to stop being so judgmental, but sometimes it just feels good to make yourself the center of the universe.

All that to say, when I saw her this morning I apologized and felt the tears behind my eyes. She apologized too. We have been talking a lot lately about the differences between men and women, and she told me that men's brains are like waffles--they are able to compartmentalize things--but women's brains are like spaghetti--everything is all intertwined and confusing. We both said we wished we could have waffle brains because it was clear that our argument arose out of tangled brain spaghetti.

She looked me in the eye and told me that she knows who I am. She told me that everything is in transition right now, and that means that I need to cling to my joy more than ever. She told me that I cannot be tossed to and fro by my circumstances, and that I need to stay positive, because the attitude I project will drastically influence my surroundings.

She is right. I popped the balloons and threw out the punch.