quit givin' me the business

Okay, so Honey and the Management have been giving me the business for ages and ages about not posting so I suppose it’s time. And as Honey has pretty much established herself as “the smart one” and is beating me mercilessly in both word count and IQ points, I have slightly less performance anxiety than usual. Let’s just say that in this relationship I am the lucky one. In her previous post Honey mentioned that she gave me some time off a while back on account of me having a bit of a feeling. I really didn’t know how to handle it since turning it off and then on again didn’t work. But I don’t even remember what sort of a feeling it was so I must have dealt with it effectively – probably equal parts repression and driving it out and dropping it off on a nice farm where it can live out its days far away from me and my cold, dead insides.

Both Honey and The Management (seriously, start a band, ‘k guys?) are obviously way better at blogging than I and dontcha just love how they get all fired up about the right sorts of things? I mean, what’s the deal with dickmonkey language correctors and not enough art work?! And don’t even get me started about the holidays. Those really stick in my craw as well. But this isn’t about that, this is about me and my feeling (or Honey, should it be “my feeling and I?” just kiddin,’ I totally know the answer to that).

Honey and I spend a lot of our time wondering “what would a normal person do/feel?” in the various situations we find ourselves in. Not necessarily because we care (believe me, we don’t), but because it is just easier to pass as a normal person most of the time. It is simpler to pretend to have feelings than to out oneself as a non-feelings-haver. I have tried to come out as a robot on various occasions to friends, loved ones, acquaintances, pretty much everyone, but no one believes me. What do I mean when I say I am a robot? Well, frankly, I mean that I probably average about one substantial feeling a year. I can go months (and by months I obviously mean 26 years) without ever feeling either agony or ecstasy. For realz. And I mean that in a good way, before y’all go pitying me and starting prayer circles. My ebb and flow has neither ebb nor flow. Sure, things make me happy and sad, but not enough to you know, like, call someone up and want to talk about it (except maybe Honey, and all of our conversations go something like this, “omg you felt nothing, too?? WE’RE THE SAME!!!”). Naturally, people who have too many feelings tend to baffle me, but as I have recently discovered, people who have less feelings than me really freak me the frack out. I am so used to being the one that doesn’t care the most that when I end up being more invested than someone else, it makes me really mad, which kind of tickles me, so really it all evens out. Mad + bemused = nothing much. (also, I am perfectly aware that I am doing that one thing that that one prof used to get so mad at me for – where I am really vague and refuse to give examples from my personal life). Maybe if I care enough there will be a part 2 to this where I really delve into my psyche and then live blog my regression therapy.