Somewhere along the way to here, I became a drama queen. I don’t honestly know when it happened. I get a pain and immediately I think I’m dying. I seriously start planning for what will happen to Max, where I want stuff to go, how sad everyone will be when I’m gone. I beg for signs from the universe, and when they come, I rejoice – until I realize that I’m most likely fooling myself and I really am going to die from whatever random pain I just had.

I think I have a UTI. I’ve put off calling the doctor, because I don’t want confirmation that it’s really the only documented case of black death in this century And I don’t particularly like my doctor either.

I often say that the internet has caused an increase in drama. Facebook is my daily dose of “who’s fighting with whom?” It’s very amusing to watch, most days.

Internet forums – another wonderful source of drama. Even the food you feed your dog can be wrong, and you can be made to feel like the scum of the earth for even thinking of choosing such crap.

I don’t know. Maybe it was all the stuff with the sisters after Mother died, the only way they would listen was if I screamed. Maybe it’s students, who are so distracted that I have to put on a show to get and keep their attention.

It’s not fun to be a drama queen. It’s much more fun to be a silly princess.

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