When Did I Become such a Wuss?

Okay, I'm not going to lie, I had to delete the original title where I replaced a letter and added a letter. I tried to put symbols in there to make up for it and be comic book clever or something. But some sense of propriety kicked in.

When did I become such a wuss? I have no back bone. I am so doubting, and I am a cryer.

Case in point. Man Friend and The Kid are on a huge mission to see The Karate Kid.

Whatever, why do I have to go.

It's Sunday, I'd really like to go for a swim, come back and catch about half of the German vs. Australia match in the comfort of my dark livingroom and some bamboo yarn.

But I realize, that is very anti-social of me. I realize that Man Friend made nice coffee and is doing Farmer's Market for the restaurant and for home. I realize Sunday is "Family Day".

I gently mumble (fer reals, gentle) about why don't we go to the later show? why do we have to go for the matinee?

"We could dear if you want to ..."

Well, I can tell everyone is itching to leave the house so ...

I concede. I don't swim. I don't watch the match.

We go to the movies and I cry. Not because I'm pouting. I'm literally crying at what should be called The Kung-fu Kid. Not at a scene, at various scenes. WTF. I have not told the worker bees or the Triad this. They know a lot of embarassing things about me. But this. Shit, this takes the cake you know?

I feel like someone is injecting me with PMS, but later telling me it's just the placebo.

So in case you weren't sure, or I was still trying to hold on to some tough girl moments of yesteryear. Consider it done. I am not in shape anymore, I am not really THAT angry anymore, and I'm definitely not tough.