Welcome to CrazyTown

Ok boys and girls, you might wanna stick close to me for this one. In a few short moments we will be taking a trip into Crazy Town. Hold on to my hand though, I am well acquainted with Crazy Town, I will be your guide. :)

So, its been a few months since I've blogged, I know, I am sorry I've disappointed all three of you. :) It's hard to blog when you have been living in Crazy Town though! Let's be honest with ourselves, ( I mean me and you, Loyal Reader. Not all the crazy people in my head, I will get to them later. ) I've had a monthly time share in Crazy Town since puberty, but its been a good few years since I've set up permanent residence there like I have this past month or so.

Welcome to Crazy Town, population 2. That would be me, and my hostage, my boyfriend Paul. Lets take a little stroll into my world.... July 24th, after about 2 weeks of hanging out daily after work and on the weekends, I told Paul to hang out with his family for the 24th. I will repeat, I TOLD him to, jot that down, it is important to the story later. All day long that day, I am being completely sane, some might even describe it as rational. Hanging out with my roommate, BBQing, having a beer, all and all having a really good day. Bout 7 pm, I decide to take a nap before fireworks, so I walk into my room. Apparently, on that day, my bedroom door was the portal into Crazy Town, because I suddenly got annoyed that Paul wasn't with me. Now children, refer to your notes, to remind yourselves why he wasn't there. I went to lay down, and got pissed that he wasn't there. I took a nap and woke up sad that he wasn't gonna be watching fireworks with me. Sometimes when I am living in Crazy Town, I am aware of my insanity, tonight wasn't one of those nights. By about 10, I am seesawing between pissed off and disappointed so I text Paul, who then stopped studying and came to my apt with an apology and a homemade muffin. You would think having your boyfriend apologize for not reading your mind would snap you on out of it, but no, I remained pissed for about an hour after. Poor guy. The good news is, I tend to bake when I am sorry about something, so so far he's gotten a molten chocolate lava cake, cookies and some cupcakes out of being my hostage. I am wondering if maybe he has Stockholm Syndrome.

The good news is, I am writing this blog, which maybe means I've moved back from Crazy Town, and can return to just my monthly time share again! Wish us luck... (this time I do mean me and all my crazy.... :) )