Recently I have undergone a bit of introspection (I know it's a big word, look it up) and I have decided that basically, all in all, when consider in a big picture kind of way, I am pretty much a nice person. So I am left to wonder, if I am such a good person, then why are all of my family/friends/acquantances/co-workers/bystanders afraid of me?
Is it my appearance? Do I smell? My political leanings? Religious convictions? These are the questions I was forced to ponder. But eventually I concluded that it could be none of these things.
Why therefore am I feared? I have decided that it is a combination of bad press and the mental instability of the people I associate with. Yep, that means you (insert name here). Especially if your name is Sabrina. My dear sweet twin recently said to a person whom I had hardly even met:"You're afraid of me, and I'm afraid of her, what does that tell you?"
Sure, in my rash youth (i.e. anything that happened more than a week ago) I may have been prone to hitting people, embarassing them in pulic, stabbing them with various utensils (remember the fork Bree? Better not forget it!) or running them over in my moms Geo Metro (but that was totally an accident), but I swear that I have reformed. What with my community service (not even court mandated!) and the general benevolence in which I bathe all those in my immediate presence, I defy you to find fault in me these days. Not unless you want to pay for it, that is.
