The Flipside of Crazy - I told you I'd post again soon!

Following hot on the footsteps of my post just minutes ago, I'm posting now on a somewhat unrelated topic.

I am mildly crazy. Not in the bat-$hit, tin-foil on my head, sign carrying on the street corner screaming at the top of my lungs, crazy.  I'm just mildly neurotic, bipolar, with obsessive compulsive tendencies (and I am 100% serious here, but let's focus on the fun parts of what that means).

I make bad puns, I sing to myself out loud (usually softly), I make inane observations, and say seemingly random things (some of which are genuinely random, and some are based on a dialog in my head that involves a perfectly imperfect train of thought, until I decide to speak it out loud, at which point someone looks at me like I have three heads).

There are moments when things get out of control.  Sometimes they involve coffee (and very occasionally alcohol, although I have mostly sworn that off).  I get twitchy, and I am more inane than usual.  I say strange things.  I'll be in a room with one or two other people playing a board game and sing "row, row, row, your boat", or hum "pop goes the weasel".

When I suddenly notice that the squadron of models I painted with red heads, like, 15 years ago (see my prior post) do, in fact, have red heads, the sudden burst of laughter "they're red heads!" met me tonight with a very, very strange response.  Looking around for redheads.  Trying to figure out why I find that funny.  Seeing what I am actually pointing at, then slowly looking for a way to discreetly increase the physical proximity between us.  Honestly I find this to be funny.

When someone shoots at a squad and states they are firing at them "from behind" I giggle.  What's funnier than someone taking it up the backside?  Maybe not so much inane as immature (mind you I am a big fan of that sort of crude humour as well).  That became a running joke for the night, so maybe that's not so bad.

Sometimes I have to swear that I'm not drunk, or high, but I get the general sense that sometimes people would possibly be more comfortable with my strange behaviours if I were somehow under the influence of a mild-altering substance...

I am medicated for my conditions, but I am afraid my personality is beyond treatment and, you know what?  I wouldn't have it any other way.  :)