The Dictator
a person who tells people what to do in an autocratic way or who determines behavior in a particular sphere…
If ever there was a fitting definition… Back in late April 2014 we found out that we were expecting a baby… no small feat considering we had tried IUI and were going thru classes to start the expensive ass in vitro process. But somehow, after BJ accepted a job on the other side of the country, we managed to conceive on our own, and in the middle of quitting jobs, starting new jobs and cross country moves, we were going to be welcoming our first child into the world. Excited is an understatement…
but this post is about The Dictator… Almost immediately I was forced to learn that I was no longer in control of this ship… the ship being my body… As stereotypical as it may sound, I love fried chicken… or rather i did, until The Dictator showed up. The Dictator did not enjoy fried chicken. In fact he thought it was gross. At first I thought it was a fluke. I grabbed some Popeyes… a favorite treat, to celebrate being pregnant and allowed to eat crappy stuff and say cute things like “i’m eating for two”… the Popeyes wasn’t delicious… POPEYES IS ALWAYS DELICIOUS… i chalked it up to a bad batch or it was the wrong temperature… something… and then i tried again… and then i realized all chicken was gross, nasty and vile… jerk chicken, baked chicken, chicken sandwiches, it was all just gross… but you know what was amazingly yummy? McDonald’s Filet o Fish sandwiches… who in the hell eats those things? Me and The Dictator… secretly… on the way home from work so no one would know my shame…
Dictator… a person who tells people what to do in an autocratic (taking no account of other people’s wishes or opinions; domineering) way or who determines behavior in a particular sphere…
That’s who was living in my body and from the moment he and I became acquainted I learned that he was in control.
Gangsta Mittens 
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