Not that that should come as news to anyone. But I am. Most people, as they get closer to a much-anticipated event, get outwardly excited. They get antsy and hyper and...excited.
Not on the outside at least.
I went to lunch with some friends today. I had received a piece of good news at o'dark thirty in the morning and you would think I would be bouncing off the walls with excitement. Nope. One of my friends called me later this afternoon to make sure I was ok. It seems that, the closer I get to MacGyver's return, the more reserved I become.
Those of you who have met me would most likely never use the word "reserved" when describing me. The word probably would not be used in the same conversation as my name. I'm not a reserved person. I'm a red head. And Irish (among other things). And, if you've met my mom, you understand the gene pool I come from.
I am not reserved.
Yet, here I am. The closer we get to MacGyver's homecoming, the more reserved I get. At least on the outside. Inside is a completely different story. I'm wound tighter than a spring. I tend to carry my stress in my shoulders (for those of you who are familiar with human anatomy...not that part of the anatomy, geez...it's specifically in my rhomoboids and trapezius) and my jaw. And right now, you could bounce a quarter off my back and it would bounce pretty darn high. I'm not sure I remember the last night I slept well. My appetite is a mess. My stomach is one big knot.
All on the inside. Outside, I'm as cool as a cucumber. Almost stoic. I don't get it.
Then again, that really isn't much of a surprise, is it? Like MacGyver says, "Normal is boring."
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