I’m an emotional woman. A woman who does not hold things in. Many people I know manage to pull off being reserved with a quiet grace… but at some point those people tend to burst. Not a little explosion. Not a bit of a spill. We’re talking, like, when the Rebels blew up the Death Star kind of exploding.
That can’t be healthy, can it?
With that in mind I am fine with being the emotional one. I’m not so emotional that if someone looks at me funny when I’m walking down the street I’m going to chase them down and beat the shit out of them… usually. The fact is, I’m emotional when it comes to people, or things, that matter.
Very emotional. Let’s scale up from emotional and say that I’m a passionate woman. That’s closer to the truth of the matter. I’m passionate about what I do and those I love. I love fiercely and with abandon. It takes me a while to warm up to people but once I truly consider someone a friend I have a hard time letting go.
So yes that makes me emotional and passionate.
And slightly hot headed at times because all that passion, it can be used for good or evil. Normally I am able to control how I let this all out (though I don’t usually choose to contain it) but when I’m feeling stressed or crunched…
Let me just say that if I’ve snapped at you in the past couple of days… I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Maybe I will bake you a lovely cake decorated with the tears of my sorrow for biting your head off…
After I get through the next couple of weeks that is.