Because I AM special, that's why.
Not only am I special, my entire life is filled with glamour.
Yes, ME...leading a glamorous life.
I'm sure you're thinking,
Kim, why do you say you have a glamorous life? I've seen your hair, and your lack of fashion flair...what gives?
First of all, let's define glamorous, shall we?
Yes, we shall.
Glamorous, according to dictionary.com is defined as The attractive or exciting quality that makes certain people or things seem appealing or special.
Let me break it down for you...
My life just oozes with excitement...no, wait, that was the cat puke I just cleaned up - without benefit of paper towels. Some of The Boy's college-ruled paper was sacrificed in this endeavor. Hey, we're on the austerity program here, and The Mister is the Paper Towel Nazi - "No towels for you!"
What in the world did we do before paper towels? Well, we didn't have indoor cats that were prone to hairballs, that's what. We shooed those felines out into the real world where they could rid our yards of mice and birds and squirrels and such.
But wait, let's get back to me and my glamorous life.
I am so attractive to people, especially telephone solicitors. They can't wait to talk to me. Just in the last week, I've been offered the latest in diabetes equipment and automobile warranties.And yesterday, a nice man with a well-modulated voice offered me the opportunity to participate in a medical study for the treatment of irritable bowel syndrome, and a wonderful man representing the Missouri State Troopers Association wanted to remind me about the dangers of texting and driving and offered me a bonus bumper sticker "at no obligation" if I donated $20.
Now, let's talk about my attractiveness...to wasps. Sure, I know I'll never be mistaken for a supermodel, but my insect friends identified as Hymenoptera sure seem to like me. Every time I open the front door, one or two of them buzz right in, eager to find out what I'm doing.
Outside of the home, I seem to attract those suffering from nervous conditions. Maybe it's my magnetic personality, or the fact that I attempt to cut my own bangs and often look like I just got sprung from a locked ward, but I am continually having the most interesting conversations with people suffering from any number of emotional issues. They're drawn to me; they seek me out in drinking establishments and checkout lines. I don't know the reason for my appeal - but I bask in the attention.
A few examples:
A guy I went out with (only one date) called me from his Nashville roof (he thought he'd climb up there and hang down over the eaves to remove the screens from his windows)...in the dark. He was so filled with anxiety he couldn't drag himself back to the ladder. He did manage, however, to get his cell phone out of his pocket and call me to inform me that he was checking himself into a psychiatric ward as soon as he figured out how to get off the roof.
In Kentucky, a guy I went out with (also one date) wanted to pull my hair and have me call him "Daddy". This was right after he drove me to his dealer and he scored some drugs. See, he was willing to break the law and go to jail for me (and take me with him)...if that doesn't say infatuation, I don't know what does. And wasn't it sweet of him to want to take on the paternal role in my life? Geez, I am so freakin' lucky!
I got married so I'd never, ever have to date again.
In Pittsburgh, my neighbors thought I was either a narc or a therapist. And the neighbor on the other side of me thought I was an angel, sent to help her.
You can see that I have nationwide appeal. I don't dare leave the country out of fear of causing an international incident.
So here I sit, my light under a bushel, and my face covered with mosquito netting. Don't you wish you were glamorous, too? I'd be happy to assist you in your journey - right after I empty the cat's litter box.