Okay, so I’m torqued, ticked, teed, and my O is P’d. I’m going ballistic, nuclear and postal all at the same time which is causing my knickers to get all twisty and the area directly under my collar to get uncomfortably warm. I’m fed up, fired up, riled up, worked up and so up in arms that I belong in a deodorant commercial. I’m in a huff inside a snit enclosed in a tizzy. I’m steamed and amped and at the end of both my rope and my wits resulting in my being bent out of shape. When I cross the border into nearby Wisconsin, I am cheesed.
The reason that I’m throwing things like fits, conniptions, and tantrums is that I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired of being oppressed. That’s right, I’m being oppressed!
For those of you who are unaware, I fall into a segment of the population at large that is discriminated against almost as much as ugly people: I am an introvert. Continue reading