Yak it off

I’m one of the “quiet ones.”  You know a few of those, I’m sure — they have the reputation for being the worst offender of whatever wrong is being discussed — and it’s true.

The more I yak yak yak about my situation, the better I feel.

Lighter.  Bubblier.  Like I’ve sloughed off a bunch of gunk that was gumming up my system and it makes me happy.

Yakking, (apparently a real word in the real dictionary) and the stupid Father Time thing.

Image result for Father Time

Or just the Father Time thing.

Image result for Father Time

He’s such a narcissist.  I’m the only one who can heal things.  I stand still for no man, blah blah blah.

I’m going to keep yakking, even though the ears listening are just about at their max capacity, I’m sensing.

That’s ok.  I think I’m just about at my max capacity for yakking about it.

Ppppffft!  Who am I fooling?!  When it gets too much, I’m just going to yak it off.

You have been warned 😉