Why lie?

I don't need a beer. I would like a glass of wine, but I'm booze-free until next Saturday when I see my neighbor who is going to cut my hair and says I get to drink wine while it's happening. But that's not the point.

The point is that I lie a lot. Unnecessarily and rarely about important things, but I do it a lot. I've discussed this with others because I'm incredibly honest.


Sometimes it's to add intrigue.

And then the homeless man pulled a gun out... What kind? Oh, it was a water gun. Bright orange. But it was a gun! And he pointed it at himself, squeezed the trigger and drank the water (presumably) he shot at himself. 

Sometimes it's just to embellish and the audience knows I'm lying.

And then I said to my boss, "You're a turd-cicle and I hope you choke on your own tiny... head." 

We all know I wouldn't tell my boss he's a turd-cicle... I can just give him a look that says "You're the stupidest man alive" and he knows that I'm saying it, but I don't SAY it. But I tell people I say stuff. Because it's funny.

Sometimes, though, I realize the embellishment is really really dumb.

I ate FIVE cookies! 

But really I only ate 4. Does that one more make the story better? Not really. Depending on the size, 4-5 cookies isn't really that many. Or it's a lot. Either way. Why would I do that? I do this all the time.

I also like to make myself not look like a lazy asshole.

I worked all weekend.

When I talk to my friends overwhelmed with parent/wife/homemaker/life busyness, I feel like an asshole for saying, "I took my book to the coffee shop after going to yoga and sitting in the steam room for 45 minutes." (45 minutes is a lie... I can't sit in there for more than 10 without thinking I will die.) But I have guilt about the life of leisure I lead. I realize we all make choices and they love their busy lives just as much as I love my not-busy life most of the time... but I still have guilt.

I lie at work for a similar reason. I know a lot of my coworkers are working insane amounts of hours and I have certainly done that too... but my workload is super mellow right now. Don't tell. I roll my eyes and act like I didn't watch 4 movies on Netflix while crocheting an entire baby blanket this weekend because my job is SOOO imposing. (For real, though, sometimes I do work a lot...)

Then sometimes I lie out of shame. It's usually related to why I don't want to do anything even though I have nothing to do and haven't left the house for 3 days because my anxiety has been bad or I cried at the gym for no reason and I just want to cry the rest of the day because that happened. This is when the lies get elaborate.

No, I can't get coffee with you because the cat is sick and I got a flat tire on the way to the vet and it's been a horrible week and my boss is an asshole and we should get together next week and go bungie jumping with 100 people because I love heights, jumping from them, and crowds of people. 

I'm learning, though, to lie less when I'm depressed and just be honest like I will be a few days later. Because I always confess.

But in storytelling, the truth rarely cuts it. I think you know what I mean...

There's a coyote that lives/hunts near my office. There is also a family of rabbits who make a gaggle of baby bunnies every spring. I came to the office one day this summer and there was a beheaded bunny by the backdoor. It was horribly disturbing. I told WC this when I talked to him later (hoping he or some other strapping young lad would remove the carcass so I could go out to my car later), but I probably said something like "There was a disemboweled baby bunny at the back door and I threw up when I saw it and then wept in the car." (I do know "disemboweled" is different than "beheaded," but it conjures a more horrifying scene. I also didn't throw up or cry, but I did gag, look away, and then feel very very sad.)

It was WC who decided to believe I had suggested a huge beast murdered the bunny when, really, I didn't speculate as to the size of the culprit... just that it was likely a pack of wild mountain dogs. A few days later he mentioned that he'd seen a coyote in the parking lot and it wasn't that big. But hello! Wild mountain dog! Barely a lie.

That story wasn't really funny, because a bunny really did die and I love the bunnies at the office.

This post has been a roller coaster.