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So something happened today. My favorite website (which return readers know is Cracked.com) introduced me to “steampunk chap-hop dissing rap.” STEAMPUNK CHAP-FUCKING-HOP DISSING RAP! No? Confused? Here:

Professor Elemental is ripping Mr. B: The Gentleman Rhymer a new asshole! But politely and with proper grammar.

As if steampunk wasn’t glorious enough, am I right? The reason this matters is because it reminded me of something: I, like, have a personality.

Since moving to my new coast and starting my new job I’ve been so freaked out about settling in and making friends that I’m now some weird schizo-constantly-manic-but-still-somehow-watered-down version of myself.

Mitt Romney & The Republican Team Event

Photo credit: mnassa

Like Mitt’s platform, my edited personality somehow exists in the real world despite being too contradictory to conform to any rules of logic or physics.

The two character traits that have taken over are my pathological lying and my anxiety. I lie about, just, the stupidest shit. “OMG I LOVE that band!” No I don’t. Why would I say that? That song sounds like baby coyotes attacking their midnight meal. My ears are bleeding.

My anxiety goes up and down so hard and fast I somehow end up just being constantly confused. The other day in a new attorney meeting, during which my job was to literally just sit there and being lectured at, I started to have a panic attack. Running out of the room crying felt a tad embarrassing so I opted for inconspicuous rocking back-and-forth while clutching my chest. The guy sitting across from me noticed.

Don’t worry dude the crazy will pass. I just momentarily feel like I’m having a heart attack. Also, do you want to brainstorm this new case together?

And can we talk about something? It’s not about how law school did not prepare me for real world motions and legal practice. It’s not about how every time I get a new writing assignment I end up in the bathroom literally shitting myself from fear. It’s about how every single goddamned person’s response to any comment about being reamed out or yelled at is, “Something, something. It’s just water off a duck’s back.”

WHEN DID WE ALL DECIDE THAT WATER ROLLS OFF DUCKS’ BACKS?! Was there a science lesson I missed in elementary school? Was there some middle school science experiment with feathers and water? I was a huge loser as a kid. I had face-sized bifocals at age 8. HOW DID I MISS THIS?!

wet duck

Photo credit: Muffet

“My feathers are water resistant, and PS jails are run locally and prisons are the federal ones. Idiot.

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