“This is so Deliciously Complicated.”

I drink coffee.
I never said that I didn‘t drink coffee.
In recent years, I have taken to drinking more tea, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy a decently made cup of coffee.
It is possible for me to drink both tea AND coffee, and still be true to my collected idiosyncrasies.
I also drink water for medicinal purposes, and I have been known to accept sodas of various kinds… usually not “fruit” flavored because of the immediate teeth staining. There’s nothing cute about a mouth full of drippy orange teeth.
Point being… I can and will drink a lot of beverages, okay?
I’m sorry if that’s a shock… sit down and put your head between your knees, if that will help.

MOST people enjoy multiple things, do they not?
For example, it’s possible for a person to greatly enjoy both pizza and a delicious shrimp cocktail, yes?
To walk into a room with said person enjoying said pizza and exclaim, “Pizza?! Why aren’t you eating shrimp?” strikes me as a bit ridiculous… and yet this seems to happen to me frequently.
“Why are you wearing blue? I thought you liked green!”
“Hiddleston? What happened to Cumberbatch?”
“Well, now, I thought you liked Doctor Who, but you’re all excited about Top Gear. Which is it?”
Look, my interests are varied, okay?
I enjoy a variety of things.
I cannot be boiled down to one primary.
My essence cannot be distilled.
I am like the wind (i.e. blustery and cold).

In all seriousness, I do understand why this seems to happen so often… I understand that my nature can be confusing. Or at least that’s what I was told by someone who was supposed to be conducting my counseling session at the time.
Do you know what that’s like… to have someone with 40-some-odd years of counseling experience and advanced psychology degrees tip their head to one head like a curious puppy and say, “I really don’t get you. You’re an enigma.”
That really does something to you, you know… if humans carry a fundamental desire to be understood, a moment like that does tend to make you feel both peculiar and isolated.
And, to head my psychologically inclined friends off at the pass, yes, I do recognize that I shifted persons (from first to second) in a transparent and pathetic attempt to distance myself from that particular moment of emotional trauma.
And typing that made me giggle.
Still giggling.

In an attempt to understand others, people try to categorize. They remember the things that we have expressed to create pictures of us as a frame of reference. It makes sense… but I haven’t yet figured out why the picture of me needs to be so darned simple.
I mean, really?
Coffee OR tea?
Just wait until I pull hot chocolate out of my bag of drinks… minds will be blown.
Other people are quite delightfully complicated, and if my persistently unhelpful counselor of yesteryear is correct, I am downright undecipherable (of course, this same person also told me that the answer to all of life’s problems and my existential crisis could be found in securing for myself a man… a man that is not Jesus… so I do realize that this counselor was wrong nearly all of the time).
SO… when we’re sketching each others characters, why stop at a stick figure when by listening (and not assuming… there’s that word again), you can create a Monet?
I wouldn’t mind being a Monet.
Or a Rembrandt.
Or a Manet (with clothes), if you’d rather.
I would adore being sculpted in alabaster, if that’s your medium.
I would very much mind being a Salvador Dali painting because insanity…