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Normal

 I'd like to be normal, sort of. But do I? I've always felt like the outsider, the weirdo, the one who was passed over for being too........(fill in the blank). I'm not comfortable in my skin. I'm not a hero to any actual human, except maybe my children, and even that's in question at times. There are a few friends who manage to look the other way when my weirdness wins out and a boyfriend who accepts most of who I am but with reservations, I think he tries to hide. My beloved dog and kitties sit by me with patience unaware of my shortcomings. The murder of crows that visit during the winter months for peanuts, well, they love the peanuts and maybe they connect me to them. That might be a form of love. Squirrels, bunnies, and the occasional opossum might have warm feelings for their human neighbor. More likely, though, they love that the dog of the house doesn't give them chase. She just watches them as they go about their business. But me, I look at my shape an

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