An Irrational Number

I am your stereotypical woman in that I overreact. A lot. I hate this about myself because it's something I can't control even when I know I am doing it. I'm usually a balanced individual, but I constantly teeter on the edge of rationality and it doesn't take much to send me over that edge into complete Irrational Bitch mode. For example, last week, I walked into work and the press guys confronted me about a mistake I had made in improperly collating sets of pages. They were just making me aware for the next time, but I took it as an attack and I immediately started fuming. Irrational Bitch was in full effect for the next hour until I cooled off.

More recently, Boo rolled home at 4am on Saturday. We had spent the evening separately as I was seeing friends that were visiting. I was a little miffed that he was out so late, but didn't say anything as I pretended to sleep. When I awoke at 6am, Boo wasn't in bed. I walked out into the living room and he was asleep on the couch. Irrational Bitch took over and I started thinking that he didn't want to sleep in the same bed with me. I kept reminding myself that he was drunk and probably wandered out there unintentionally and passed out. After all, he was naked except for the throw blanket covering his mid-section. Sure enough, around 8am he came back to bed and had no idea why he ended up on the couch.

I'm pretty sure this is just another defense mechanism I've developed to mitigate anger or disappointment (thank you, assholes!). It's funny, though. In my examining and analyzing Boo in our relationship, I've come to realize more about myself and things I should work on. I suppose it's all part of ongoing self-discovery, and I'm glad I'm with someone who can help me improve (knowingly or not), rather than someone who exacerbates my problems.