Oy

That's all really. Just oy. Sometimes things are so overwhelmingly oy-ish, it's not even funny.

People constantly amaze me to the point of the googley eyed fish stare. You know that one? Where you're having a normal (okay, normal is subjective) conversation and suddenly BAM - they take a strange turn in the road and you're in Oyville. And you wonder how the hell they found that little hidden side road, because you certainly didn't see it on the path of the conversation you thought you were taking. There was no "Hidden Entrance" sign to let you know that some odd, completely unrelated thought was going to come barreling out into the road and t-bone you. Suddenly there you are, airbag inflated, thinking "huh?".

And another thing. Why is it that the people who keep suggesting I need to be on some kind of meds... are all on some kind of meds? "There's no shame in it" they say. Well, of COURSE they're gonna say that. They're doing it. They're not likely to say "dude, don't take the meds, it's shameful". Besides, whoever said that man was supposed to be EVEN all the time? I don't like being even. Being even is not what I'm about. I'm about the raucous rollercoaster of mood swings and hell, if you don't like that and you want me to be more EVEN, maybe you should try the kiddie rides. The ones that go round and round in circles and stay on the ground. I have a height restriction. "Must be THIS tall to go on this ride". See? The little clown says it, it must be so.

So, yeah, what I'm really saying? Oy.