I'm getting restless from being cooped up. When I was a wild young thing I would get strong urges to fly away in the spring and fall. It usually resulted in getting in trouble with my father, by which I mean getting a beating. I packed up more than once, but left for college at the usual time. Never went home again. I lived a very active and colorful life. Some regrets, I guess everybody has at least a few. I'm not tolerant of anyone telling me what to do. I bristle and resist. If I thought there was a god I would have a being to blame. I think this is one of the situations where the dog gets kicked. I sure hope they are handing out condoms as well as masks. Anybody but me wanting to act out a bit? Tormenting the neighbors appeals to me, but how ? And how to duck responsibility for being mean?
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Doubt seriously if it is true.
St-Sinner
Level 9
Apr 11, 2020
0
So you think you are the only one?
@ForTheBirds
Many want to be that but most fall in line. Men also dream of million things but we fall in line. That's what what life makes us do. Wishful thinking and life are different things.
I’ve found myself surprisingly calm recently. Also when met by silly old women getting too close, where I’d normally stand up and say, ‘excuse me, I was next in the queue’ I have found no socially acceptable way to say, ‘I find you invading my personal space disrespectful and a little scary.’
I think it’s the surrealism of it all.
If I had the time I’d probably offer to repaint an elderly couples flaking window frames, but I’m working full time still, so will leave that to the furloughed ones 
I hope you find some relatively harmless ways to release your inner pixie
girlwithsmiles
Level 8
Apr 11, 2020
0
The old Voyeur next door let his corgi get within 2 feet of me again. He uses a leash that zips out but does not pull back. Every single time my door opens he is out there with those dogs. If I go to the dumpster, if I go to the mailbox, if I go for a walk, there he is, waiting for me. So I called the sheriff on them. I've called at least a dozen times in 15 years. My husband spoke to him once. Works for a while, then he's threatening me again. He's kinda like an old flasher wagging at me with a limp dick. The dog is not a weapon. If it bites me I will kill it on the spot. It's not the dog's fault, it's the old man. Pity. My pixie is a small dragon with the tail of a scorpion, pissy and aggressive. I don't pick fights, but I do finish them.
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