I hate chicks. I hate that chicks make huge issues over nothing. I hate that far too often irrationality reigns. I hate that when chicks meet you they are immediately on guard, wondering how you are a threat. My tactic is too appear not too friendly, not too sullen, pretty blasé rather and hope over a ten minute convo they will settle down. Like standing completely still when a barking dog charges at you, letting it first sniff your hand and speaking to it soothingly, before you go for tickling it behind its ear.
I hate that my chick character means that I get irrational at times. I know I am being irrational, that I am furious over the most bizarre things, but I cannot stop/ change myself no matter how much I think through it all. I was not raised to be a chick. I was raised by far too many men & a mother who herself was raised by far too many men.
I get irrationally angry because I am a chick. I go into my own head and think it out cause my guys raised me into this tactic. Occasionally I bitch aloud during my thinking, cause I am a chick. I get over it and move on because my guys ordered me into this habit, as guys hate to hear bitching. Some chick passes on my bitching, cause they’re a chick like that. And I get in shit. I try to sort it out, cause I am human. And everything gets blown out of proportion cause then there are at least two CHICKS involved by now. And things become beyond ridiculous. Honestly. Someone please pass the ten dozen eggs.
And right now I hate that a few petty issues in my living situation have me and my flatmate EMAILING each other & her asking does she want me to move out, rather than just sitting down over coffee, spending 10 minutes of saying, “You need to start contributing”, “Well you need to stop listening to the tv so early in the mornings” “Well YOU need to please tell your boyfriend to stop sleeping during his morning bath cause I need to actually brush my teeth”, who knows etc etc blah blah blahing etc. Then we can have a conciliatory tequila.