Antipodes

With all due respect to those ailing from mental illness, sometimes I wonder, between all my mad jumps from relaxing in chill mode to delivering tirades, that I just gotta be bipolar. Get the freaking lithium out already. In one moment, I'm cooing about a cute puppy and in the next breath, hurling expletives at the idiot who decided to take up two parallel parking spots rather than moving up a mere two feet closer to the car in front of him. I'll trust anyone who gives me a smile on the street, but you are damned if I have enough time to get to know you so that I become paranoid about all the ways you might screw me. Able to strike up a conversation with the gentleman reading the paper on the park bench but instantly anti-social in a crowded bar of people my own age. Sentimental and blubbery in one minute, demon bitch in another. Can be exhausting (and inefficient!) to constantly be working at extremes. I'm not asking for full equilibrium or a completely balanced mind--how BO-RING. But I guess I would settle for just being slightly left of center.