Don’t Challenge Me When I’m Ill

I admit it. When I’m sick, I can be a bear.

Actually, it’s not while I’m sick that I’m such the bear as during the period of recovery that follows. I’m not sure why, but something about having felt so bad for so many days makes me very short tempered and ready to flail anyone who ventures to push me over the line.

Aggression is not my thing, however. I don’t tend to snap. I never hit or throw things. But, as I suppose only a writer can do, I can verbally disarm anyone and leave them gasping for air. But it takes me a long time to reach that point of eruption. I guess when I’ve been ill the pinnacle is easier to reach … and I am far less concerned with being politically correct (or perhaps even polite) at that time.

I think my biggest problem is that I don’t deal with illogical people well … and I tend to find logic loopholes quickly. On ordinary days, I can convince myself to walk away and not say what I’m really thinking. I will avoid the argument, the outcome, the aftermath if at all possible.

But when I’ve been ill … all bets are off.

Over the past several months, my daughter has been involved with a group of girls. I have attended her meetings more than once in an attempt to introduce myself and be involved, to no avail. In four meetings over three months, no one even spoke to me or tried to introduce themselves. So, I continued to take my daughter but quit attending myself.

So then the group starts complaining that they don’t have enough parental involvement and they need people to drive places. But as soon as I volunteer they tell me I can’t drive because none of them have ever met me and they hope I understand the problem. They said if I would get involved and attend the meetings, then I could drive.

I’m guessing I was painted with invisible paint or something for those four meetings I attended. Clearly I didn’t stand up and make myself known very well. Perhaps I should have thrown myself on the floor and kicked and screamed a little or done a dance in the middle of the meeting or brought a penguin with me. Then they might remember me.

Of course, I’ve been sick this week, so their email was not met with the strictest of political correctness coming from my end. Their short four sentence email was returned with an eight paragraph dissertation on my viewpoint of the situation and why I failed to understand the situation.

It probably won’t make any difference at all, but I feel better for having spoken my mind.




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