I act like I am fourteen. Maybe it is because I've never had a real job. I have always known that I simply can't work for anyone but myself. I am difficult. I am scattered. I am immature. I am forgetful. I talk too much. I don't drive the speed limit. I forget to pay bills. I can have a short fuse if you sound like my mother. Bosses sound like mothers which is why I've never had one. I might hurt them or pull out their chair when they aren't looking. I am OCD with exercise. Sitting still will be my greatest challenge these next five months. I dance around my house regularly. I think my neighbors must think I still have teenagers because of the loud, inapproprite music. I'm sloppy. I become engrossed in things for days which is why I am a computer expert and can invert major and minor chords in all keys on the piano. I hyper-focus. I yearn to learn. I paint on a tarp with the paint sprawled all over my bed. I simply can't paint if I'm not comfortable. I am eccentric beyond measure. I like a clean house. I despise cleaning house, so I hire people. I stay up til all hours of the night so my husband sleeps anywhere he can. I am hyper. I am far too open with strangers. I would ground my children for things that I do. I need a nanny and a personal chef.
His name is Bruce. I feel really sorry for him. I would have kicked me out years ago for insubordinate and irrational behavior. I love this song, which illustrates my maturity level.
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