I like to think of myself as a pretty tough chick…that hates confrontation. Say something mean to me and chances are I will be shocked (Whyyyyyyy?!?! Why would you say that to meeeee?) but will continue to smile serenely and seethe inside. I know, it’s healthy.
The next part is the best part because usually one day to three weeks later, I will have a conversation with you, but you won’t be there. I will be there and my mirror will be there but not you. I hope you enjoy hearing what I think of your comment and/or outrageous behavior while I curl my hair or put on eyeliner because that’s when I feel most comfortable addressing your actions and their effect on me.
And that’s exactly what I was doing this morning when I let it slip. The confrontation doesn’t always happen in my head…sometimes a really great one-liner slips out. It’s like a jab. BOOM! If the person I am fictionally confronting were in front of me at that moment, they would be awe-struck, speechless! I feel righteous and oh so, so smart.
This morning I happened to say my perfect shame-inducing comeback out loud and then realized. “Oh shit. Matt is sleeping and the door is cracked! He may have heard me.” Shhhhhhiiiitttt. I said that last part out loud too.
“What do I do, what do I do?” I thought as I looked around. My cats must have sensed my panic because they suddenly moved, and like a T-Rex, my eyes darted and then fixated on them.
“That’s it! I was talking to the cats! They are always bothering me in the morning, it’s perfectly plausible!”
During this “aha! moment”, they looked up at me confused (slightly more than normal) and innocent. Their wide eyes and precious faces make me regain (editors note: this is iffy) sanity, “I can’t believe that just happened. And Matt didn’t even hear me. That was close!”
And that’s how I forgot ALL ABOUT whoever it was that hurt my feelings.