Yesterday, as I was putting gas I noticed something as I never noticed before. As I finished putting gas, I topped off and then immediately freaked cause the instructions say to clearly not do that. So I jumped in my car and started touching anything I could find. I touched the leather seat and steering wheel. I touched my sweater, my purse, the roof of the car. I sat there and wondered, did I get rid of all the electro waves received from putting gas. Hopefully I had. I touched nearly everything in the car. Then it dawned on me. I am a media freak. Since the news about people blowing up after putting gas in their car, I have been so paranoid. I am sick sick sick. Obviously, you don’t smoke while putting gas. But can you really blow up by just touching the ignition after putting gas? I don’t know. I guess until there is actually scientific proof I will continue my 10 minute impulsiveness of touching everything in the car and hoping that my car won’t blow up as I start it.
Then I started thinking, “Hey I might be Media’s bitch.” Then the light bulb clicks! I am, I am media’s bitch. God why? How did it get this way?? I started to look around. My car radio was on. My phone was blowing up with news alerts and more twitter reports. When I got home, the TV was turned on and then I jumped on my computer. It was a smear the Marina day. Media was every where, and it was making me its woman as if we in a prison shower! (“I swear, sniff sniff, I didn’t drop the soap. Sniff Sniff Sobs!)
I started panicking. My chest hurt.
Then the tv asked, “Are you having a panic attack?”
I said, “Yes,”. The TV was talking to me!
“You need Zoloft!” I do?
“Yes you do! It will stop your extreme worrying , panic and wondering if the media is controlling you.” I do need Zoloft! “Yes you do.”
So I have an appointment with my doctor to ask for Zoloft. Hey the TV said so.
I kept thinking though. There is a reason I refuse sweet-in-low and other artificial sugars. I don’t want cancer! News everywhere said artificial sugars cause cancer.
I realized that I have been this way my entire life. If an ad said, don’t use this shampoo because after 300 trillion uses, you could get cancer. I said fine.
If the commercial said I needed this type of jeans because then I would finally get accepted by my peers and not spend another homecoming dance dripping in pig’s blood. I was sold!
I realized the error of my ways. It was time for a change. I no longer will let media, commercialism, or anything else make choices for me. I am making the choices now. I am taking a stand!
“Um, mommy can you by me a Pillow Pet? The TV said only the best mommies get Pillow Pets for their kids. Please?!?!”
Before even answering, I knew I would the media’s bitch forever.