Just Call Me Rona
It wasn’t until today that I realized, I love gossip. I live for it. I thrive on it. I do. It gets my blood pumping, my heart racing and I feel orgasmic. It’s like an addiction, the more talk I hear and the more drama I have in my life the more elated I am. It keeps me going through the day and helps me to relax at night.
After waiting all week, my friend finally called me today, to give me the scoop on her quitting her job, ya know, the job I quit, in February. The one I had so much trouble handling. The one that gave me so much stress I needed a couple of hits just to walk through the door. After talking to her for almost two hours and taking in all the summer gossip, I felt vibrant, like a clean crisp sheet taken off the clothes line on a chilly spring morning. I felt like conquering the world.
This isn’t a new found glory. I was a tattletale growing up. No, really, I was. I can remember always running to someone and whispering, “This one did that or that one did this.” I was labeled a tattletale and I remember it upsetting me, but I couldn’t help it. It was in my blood and I wanted to know every ones business and there was nothing stopping me to finding out what I needed to know. I’m older now and more mature, well, maybe not so mature but I am wise, so, I’m cautious about what I say and who I say it to.
So lay it on me. I’m waiting. Make me feel the wind through my veins. Come on, I dare you.