Emily Belsey

Sometimes I just want to push people.

Not just a little shove, barely strong enough to make them do more than give you the “do you really want to go there” look, but a full-on push that knocks them down.

And some people are more tempting to push than others.

For example, there’s a girl (actually, she’s 38 but she thinks/acts/dresses like she’s 12) at work named Allison and nearly every time I see her (which is quite often, seeing as how we work in the same department, mere cubicles away from each other), I want to push her.

I don’t know why I want to push her so badly, but I bet it helps that she’s only about 5’3, weighs about 115, and wears 3-to-4-inch heels everyday.  It also helps that some days she’s dressed like a pirate (as trendy as a pirate can be, mind you), which I believe is entirely unintentional on her part; is it her fault that black gaucho pants with a red-and-white polkadot shirt looks like something a pirate (or pirate wench) would wear?

But I can’t push Allison down.  Not only does Mommy say it’s wrong, but how can I possibly explain myself after pushing her down?

How could I even begin to explain my madness?  A secret pleasure of being mad is never being able to explain it.  Indeed, you shouldn’t have to ever explain it, for if you could explain it, you wouldn’t be mad anymore, would you?

(I think I need to go to grammar therapy and figure out when exactly to use commas and parentheses.)

This entry was posted on Thursday, December 28th, 2006 at 3:26 pm and is filed under Random Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.