While driving home from Dozin’ with the Dinos, going on 3 hours of sleep and still feeling sick, Paul and I were talking about different people we know who are crazy. Not different, not weird, but crazy. The kind of people who laugh at a story they think is funny and everyone around them hears crickets chirping. The kind of people who think the world is out to get them. The kind of people who never have time for anything and make sure that you know it. The kind of people who are screaming and yelling one minute, laughing and joyful the next. I feel the comparisons being drawn between these people and myself. I know my family history of crazy. I had an uncle who wrapped his house in foil to keep the aliens away. I had a parent refuse to speak to her sister for over 10 years because of one comment/ argument over my grandparents future living arrangements. At times I feel like I am a few short miles to crazy town myself these days. So I ask the brave question, “Aren’t I just as crazy as who we’re talking about?” His response–“No you are crazed right now, not crazy.” Apparently there is a difference, and I think I will drive myself crazy figuring it out!