Adrenaline Junkie and the Magical Cricket Angel

I don't know what's wrong with me, although, when my circadian rhythm betrayed me once again this morning, there was this -- voice-- some crazy-brain Jiminy Cricket voice of my subconscious who spoke to me clear as day (Guardian angel? Spirit guide? Indigestion?) that said, and I quote, "It will never be the same. Accept it. Move on."

Whoa, Spirit Dude...what won't be the same? What should I let go? Oh, yeah, everything. Did Spirit Cricket Voice snake its way downstairs and make me coffee? Did it save me the last Krispy Kreme doughnut? Did it wash the dinner dishes? No. Its advice, while useful and timely, is all it had to offer. I do know that things are in a flux right now, many, not all, my playmates in Azeroth are dealing with forces I am not privy to, nor can I assist them.

It's no secret I lean toward the emotional side of personalities. (Understate much?) And while the upside to having a passionate, loyal, deeply engaged, and loving personality holds sparkling, glimmering perks for my family, friends, and colleagues (You need to talk, need a hug, share a secret, have someone come out swinging for you? I'm your girl) it also has its downsides: I need a little bit back, too. And when I don't feel that the scales are balanced, I usually speak up. And when I speak up, I inevitably get myself in hot water, and wonder where everyone went, or why are they upset now?

Where did everyone go? Is it something I said?

I wish -- oh how I have long wished -- for a Shamanistic Rage button I can push to show others when I am about to blow. And, if this spell worked in real life, the only alteration I would make is that everyone around me had reduced damage, too:

Jiminy Cricket Spirit Guide Angel Voice tried to reach me before my little hooves, er, toes hit the floor this morning. It tried, it really did. It tried to tell me there is nothing I can do for or about people I love, things they go through, that they can handle those burdens on their own, it's their journey, blah blah blah. The thing is for a big-mouth girl like me is sometimes the best thing I can do is to shut the hell up. Not sure I have that button. And then Tome posted her simple request to Blizzard, and their, in my opinion, hypocritical response. To war! Oh wait, you got it covered Tome? Under control? Okay, let me put this shammy rage back in my pocket.

Just for my own silliness, I donned the HOT-Fab and did all the LFRs that give the Rune Totem thingies that Wrathion wanted me to pick up for him. Guess what? I needed five more and...I got five more. My friend Señor was unaware I was wearing the helm (we did one LFR before he had to skedaddle), but I am sure he knows I am a dork, and perhaps if the HOTFB would work for him, too, that would be fine. Now Wrathion wants me to go get a cold, black heart out of Lei Shin. Okay, okay! Sheesh! Keep your turban on buddy! Even Dorothy only had to get one damn broomstick!

I have a tiny little sign I keep at work that says this:

So, Angel Cricket: I will endeavor to do better. To my friends, may you not feel my wrath, or have me cause you any pain or discomfort. To myself, ditto. No, things are never the same. We go in and out of lives for reasons, "they" say, and learn from each other. To those I am learning from, you are my Angel Crickets. Thanks.

Now I'm off to go find cold, black hearts. Hear they are the secret to Starbucks' coffee.

Theme song: Give A Little Whistle