This is me thinking aloud. Pay no attention.

I, apparently, am weird. Of course I always knew that, it’s just that it’s hit me in a whole new way. Today.

A few days ago, *M* noted that my entire life has been an endless drift from one crush to another. True. *M* figures that means my capacity for love is endless. Er…nah, I think it just means my hormones are stupid. And immune to dogbites. Clearly. But then, *M* is the perpetual optimist, it’s one of the things I adore most in *M*

[You might note that I persistently refuse to identify *M*. By name. Or make. Or gender.]

So my latest crush is a super-mel INTJ. Weird. They’re the deepest, darkest, broodiest, scariest, moodiest, most complicated, most frustrating, and most fascinating beings on God’s green earth [or anywhere else for that matter], and why I would fall for one is quite beyond me, but here we are. Again.

The object of my affections – if I can call them that – finds me annoying and blonde, but still agrees to talk to me. I’m not sure why. I suspect he wants to see how [b]lo[w]nde I can go. Right now I’m a very thin peroxide and teetering close to transparent. Perhaps he is drawn to the dark image I was as a child, when everyone thought me wise, sensible, and too old to be 8. Right now, most days, I feel more like a tantrumming 3.

So Anyway, what was I saying? Right. Crushes. Well, according to my profiles, my ideal match is an ENF/TP San-phleg. I’m supposed to go for Es and Ps. But it seems I fall for anything but those. I find Sangs annoyingly bubbly. Makes me want to hit them with a fly swatter. [Sorry *M*, you know I don’t mean you, right?]. Phlegs, who are supposed to be my naturals, are bothersome in their obstinate refusal to get worked up. Plus, they usually have very low sex drives, which is a no-go-zone for me.

Cholerics are interesting. They shouldn’t be, but they re. I like their confidence, their take-charge attitude, their sense of control. I don’t like that we argue 24-7 coz I’m a lot choleric myself. And as for my fellow mels, well, they’re just deep. Like me. And while they say like poles repel, I’m more drawn to mels than to anyone else. Odd.

Odder still, for that matter, is that I tend to fall for introverts. I’m a hermit myself, so I’m supposed to fall for party-busting energy bunnies. Instead I fall for my co-house mice. Weird.

So, let’s see. I have now fallen for a mel, a mel, another mel, another mel, a fake sanguine, a phlegm, another mel…no cholerics so far. Oh wait, that mel was choleric. Er…okay, let’s simplify this. ISTP, another ISTP, INTJ, ISFP, INTJ, INTP, two more INTPs, ENFP, ESFP [though I could swear he was an I]…I’m yet to figure what all the others are…and I need to meet an ENTP. I’m quite wondering WTFuss.

Okay. I’m done murmuring now. As you were.

PS: Agony is a private joke and no one to share it with. I am lol-ling myself silly in an office full of people and I just can’t explain it coz nobody saw it! Sigh. Waste.

Also, my concentration levels are scaring me. Apparently, I accidentally clicked on my i-tunes a while ago – no headphones – and didn’t even notice it. I could hear some music coming from somewhere far away, but I figured it was all in my head. Till I heard the clip of maniacal laughter that can only be found in my therapy folder, and noticed everyone staring at me. Oops…

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