I met someone so abysmally boring I felt vicious rancor. I’m a big girl now and can’t get away with holding that kind of judgement against a person but I ping-ponged with my anger long enough for it to become thrilling how much judgement acceded in the battle of my better selves. She is so boring she doesn’t deserve the life she has.

I’m a big girl. I’m not going to make fun of a boring person. I’m not going to tell her she’s boring or tell people how boring she is nope that is a lie. I am a liar. I am absolutely going to ravage the reputation of this person by screaming laughing about how boring she is behind her back. The mercy is that I will only tell people who do not know her personally.

When my mother interacts with me on social media I am a shitty adolescent again. MoOoom you’re embarrassing me. Stop trying so hard. This is what I have to prepare myself for. The absolutely inevitable: the sun moon love life center of my whole heart and universe—my son—will one day tell everyone I am boring.