It's official: I am going bat-shit crazy.
Fortunately, not many people have actually had to witness this decline. Of course, it's a pretty short walk from bat-crazy to bat-shit crazy, so maybe the change isn't as noteworthy as I think it is.
Either way, there hasn't been the time or opportunity to sell front-row tickets for the show. My audience has been composed primarily of those friends and acquaintances who are caught, unsuspecting, in the spotlight beside me.
But I don't want to spoil the show for those of you who may yet enjoy a private performance, so I'll spare the details.
Except to note that I turned in a paper to a teacher today with the words, "Nun/Whore" written at the top, accompanied by terse little sentences such as, "I felt like a dirty whore," and "I didn't want Jesus' eyes to see me," scrawled in my hand-writing.
And that was from the part of the day where I was behaving rather well and looked, for all intents and purposes, to be sane. Imagine the part where I appeared to be anything but.
"So," you ask tentatively, "what do you call this act?"
I call it 'The Aristocrats.'
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