Don't Call Me Dramatic....Okay Go Ahead!

My sister and I are very different people. She spends 50 minutes doing her hair and makeup every morning, I spend five. She has a lead foot, I like to hang out in the granny lane. She plans to have a bunch of babies, I plan to be a great aunt. She reads People Magazine, I prefer Scientific American. She believes that everything has a place, my apartment looks like a tornado goes through on a regular basis. I think you get the point.

But there's one thing that I did pick up from her in my formative years. It's my tendency to be a little dramatic. And by a little dramatic I mean a lot dramatic. I just find that things are generally more fun if you take them to extremes. Today was a perfect example.

It was an interesting day, to say the least. It all started with an unexpected resignation of one of the key employees at work. This really affected the course of my day as he and I were supposed to be attending a grant awards reception tonight to accept a check from a local foundation. So his departure meant I had to go it alone.

I mean, I live a pretty independent life. I live alone. The best new friends I've made since moving here are the DJs on the morning radio shows who don't even know I exist. So doing things by myself isn't really a problem. But the fact that I was going into a relatively social atmosphere in which I didn't know A SOUL gave me feelings of opposition.

SO I whined about it all day at work and asked everyone I ran into if they wanted to join me. And everyone else already had plans. I guess I'm the only lame one without non-work Friday night plans. I can roll with that.

The whole shindig went smoothly, and I even made a friend from another agency in the same line of work as us. But on my way home I realized that it wasn't so bad after all. So why on Earth did I spend so much energy throughout the day making a big deal of it? The answer is simple. Cause Emily is my big sister and she taught me to be dramatic.

Check. Mate.

So I was just watching the end of an episode of Criminal Minds. And while the team was flying home, Gideon and Reed were playing chess. Gideon beat Reed with a checkmate. Reed quit. Gideon asked Prentiss if she played. And she did. So they played. Fade to black.

It reminded me of learning to pay chess with my grandfather when I was a kid. He was a big fan of the game, and quite an expert in strategery [sic]. I am also quite certain that his post-Air Force career was at Area 51, but that's another story altogether.

I'm beginning to feel that my life has become a giant game of chess. And just when I feel like I'm getting my life in check, something else happens and the world is like, "No Bekah, CHECK. MATE."