Tonight I'm having a spaz-like night. Like a true spaz-geek I will give you the breakdown of the term.
Free dictionary says...
spas·tic
adj.
1. Of, relating to, or characterized by spasms: a spastic colon; a spastic form of cerebral palsy.
2. Affected by spastic paralysis.
3. Offensive Slang Clumsy or inept.
I don't really like that one.
Here is what Urban Dictionary says...
2. spaz
| Someone who is hyperactive, or overly energetic "She can never sit still, she is a bit of a spaz" | ||
An irrationally nervous or jumpy person.
"Dude, that Tweek from South Park is such a spaz."
Thing is, my spaz-like nature comes from so many sources. I am complicated. Neurotic and emotional. I jump to weird conclusions. Someone makes a strange face at me and in my mind I'm assuming that I did something horrible to cause such a reaction, meanwhile they probably just ate lunch at Taco Bell and are now regretting it.
Another source of my spazziness is the fact that I'm ADHD. I used to be more hyperactive, especially when I was going through puberty (goddamn hormones). I still have trouble sitting still. I have to maintain a very organized space before I can accomplish something. My work space is immaculate actually, but that's because I obsessively organize now to stay sane. See? Spaz.
More proof of my spaz-dom... oh, relationships. This is a biggie. My boyfriend and I were talking tonight and I was (still am a little) all pouty because he didn't invite me to hang out tonight. He just didn't think of it. Am I blaming him? No. Mostly, what I'm feeling is sadness that my awesome vacation is over and I'm missing all my cool friends. But his not inviting me over made me think "Oh gawd, does he love me still? What's going on? Why doesn't he think of me every second of every day?!?!!" Yeah, I'm experienced enough with this kind of spaz now to NOT take it out on my completely and totally awesome boyfriend. So instead, I blog.
More spaz evidence? I'm also a over-planner, over-thinker, over-communicator. But I'm cute, so you'll forgive me.
I think I am embracing my inner-spaz. I recognize her when she comes out now for what she is. She is my gauge. She helps me figure out when something is off. When my feelings are a priority. When I can no longer just pretend I'm ok. She is sometimes (most of the time) completely irrational. But thats okay too. Being irrational is part of the human experience.
I'm going to go organize my linen closet now before I sleep.
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