Something’s been a little different over the past couple of weeks, and I finally decided what it is.
I think I’ve found my fuck you.
I’m not sure when, exactly, it went away, but I suspect I’ve been losing it gradually over the last ten or 15 years. Yes, that long.
It is a rather good state, to begin to loose the guilt induced need to accommodate and compensate for everyone and everything else, including myself. It is not always the best state to be in, say, at work but, since tact and subtly are relative qualities, I seriously doubt that I’ll ever be in much danger of appearing too bitchy at the office.
However, I’m not sure why this change of sentiment is apparent now. Am I settled into my 30-somethings, well past the 7 year marriage itch or over worries about job security? Is the it double dose of X chromosomes that I’m now carrying around [oh, yes, it could always be the hormones…]? Is it resulting from the accumulation of crappy pregnancy sleeps?
Pleasantly enough, in my present frame of mind, the why is exactly the kind of thing that doesn’t really matter anymore.
And, really, how cool is that?