Unleashed

I've started having waking nightmares - or maybe they're fantasies - that my tongue is going to completely break free of the leash my brain has on that keeps me from saying exactly what I want at completely inappropriate times. I can't tell if I'm horrified at the thought or unbelievably tempted.

I'm never one to tell you that I like your skirt if I don't (do you like it? that's what matters, not my inadequate opinions! Why are you crying because I don't like green tweed???), or pretend for very long that I like a person that I'd rather never set eyes on again (I'm pretty good at leaving rooms just as certain other people enter, as I inevitably must leave to look at that invoice I need check on or that wine glass I need to fill. Sometimes both things may happen at once).

 But somehow even thinking about telling a lady in a wheelchair to mind her own business just seems over the line. Even if she was being an interfering busybody in the first place, even if she followed me through 3 different aisles in Publix telling me that I was carrying my purse wrong, my hair was "cheaply dyed" and god knows what else... Still, it felt like yelling "How much I spend on wine is none of your damn business!" in the middle of the grocery store would be a tad harsh. She probably would've run me over with her Rascal, too, which would not have made the hair situation any better.

Yet still, my brain introduces the image and I'm immediately scared that my tongue will be lured into action, jumping into the fray with no helmet to protect itself from the wrath that will surely follow. One day that leash is going to snap and God, I hope it's worth it. Will someone remember to sneak some contraband rum into whichever asylum I end up?