I'm having one of those days where I'm over-tired, over-sensitive, and over-caffeinated. I'm also brain dead and possibly PMS-ing.
My plan for the day is to drink a lot of coffee, because you just never know at what point you're going to be required to completely over-react about something.
Usually, Dan is the Diva in our family. He is the Queen of the Over-Reaction, the Sherpa of Mountainous Mole Hills, and can always be counted on to come unglued about nothing. That leaves me the job of being calm, cool, and collected (most of the time) and causes me to down-play just about everything.
Dan: *onboard the Titanic* "Oh my GOD! IT'S AN ICEBURG! IT'S GOING TO HIT US! WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"
Me: *casually sipping my martini while up to my ass in iceburgs* "Settle down, Nancy, it's just a freaking chunk of ice. Stop being such a GIRL."
I don't really know anymore if it's just in my nature to scoff at Chicken Little or if it's merely a defense mechanism because I've spent a lot of time dodging glaciers and at some point, I just decided to ignore them.
Once in a blue moon, however, I do catch, out of the corner of my eye, the site of a huge wall of ice looming in my horizon, and when that happens, I'm not sure how to handle it.
In my head, I want to hike my skirt up, stand on a chair and scream, "IT'S A MOUSE! IT'S A MOUSE! KILL IT!"
Instead, I'm just holding it all inside and waiting for my world to implode.
If something devastating occurs in the world today, remember... you heard it here first.