Lately I find myself being that girl. The kind that grins like a big dumb moron when I get a text message. The kind that spends most of the day anticipating the end of it, because that's when the phone call happens. The kind of girl that, let's be honest, usually bugs the crap out of me. And the truly obnoxious part is that I'm actually kind of enjoying it!
Being me, I have to over analyze this and try (likely in vain) to explain it all. Or at least justify it. This is the best that I can come up with.
For that part of the day, those few minutes, that hour (or more), however long that phone call lasts, I can actually just let go. It's the one part of every day that I feel comfortable, maybe even safe enough to be completely me. Why I can't be all of myself for the rest of the day, or even on a regular basis, is something I've never been able to fully explain. I guess I'm just not good at letting people in. That's just part of who I am.
But for that period of time in the day... I don't have to worry about not being understood, or thought of as strange. I don't have to censor myself, or try to phrase things in a certain way. I don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, or sounding stupid. I don't have to explain my train of thought, or hold back the random tangents my brain decides to follow. For the first time I find myself in a situation where all of those things are somehow OK. I can be odd, confusing, random, dorky and moronic. I can even be that girl, and it's alright.
I can just be me.
It's bizarre, and amazing, and a little bit terrifying.
I guess most new things are that way.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
rah, except not
I seem to be suffering from a completely non-dramatic, thoroughly uninteresting case of apathy lately. It happens occasionally. Some day I should probably track the whole sliding scale of it all, maybe there's some rhyme or reason to it. As it stands, I have no explanation. I don't know if this is something that happens to everyone, or if it's just one of the more "enjoyable" facets of me. While I have a hard time believing I'm unique in this way, I certainly wouldn't wish this on anyone else.
It's not that I'm unhappy. All in all, I like my life. It's a pretty good one, as lives go. I have a job I (usually) enjoy that pays my bills, a loving family, good friends, a roof over my head, a car that (more often than not) gets me from A to B... Sure, there are things that I want, but that's human nature. If you actually had everything you wanted, what would be the point to continued existence? I mean, even the enjoyment of having all of the things you want can only last so long, right?
It's just that my life just seems rather lackluster and dull right now. (I know, two words that mean the same thing, get over it.) I just can't seem to get interested in anything. Which I suppose is one of the defining characteristics of apathy...
There are about half a dozen things that I could, even should be doing. And about a dozen people I could call/write/email that would distract me from that. But I can't even find a way to be interested in procrastinating. That, at least, should garner an exclamation point but, eh. I just don't care that much.
I can't even count the number of times I've been in the middle of a conversation lately, even with someone I can normally tolerate, and I realize that I couldn't care less about what they are saying. I have no interest in responding. Half the time I've been paying so little attention that I'm not even sure what I'm responding to. I try to rewind the conversation in my head, and realize I care even less now. And it's not like my mind was even wandering to somewhere more important or interesting, I just stopped participating.
So I apologize to all of those people I should be calling, should be interacting with, promised to get a hold of and/or hang out with. Truly it's me, not you. Unless you really are boring, irritating or uninteresting. Then my mind is wandering because, well, you're boring, irritating, and uninteresting.
You would think that by age 32 I would stop being surprised by the fact that adulthood is not nearly as exciting as I expected it to be.
It's not that I'm unhappy. All in all, I like my life. It's a pretty good one, as lives go. I have a job I (usually) enjoy that pays my bills, a loving family, good friends, a roof over my head, a car that (more often than not) gets me from A to B... Sure, there are things that I want, but that's human nature. If you actually had everything you wanted, what would be the point to continued existence? I mean, even the enjoyment of having all of the things you want can only last so long, right?
It's just that my life just seems rather lackluster and dull right now. (I know, two words that mean the same thing, get over it.) I just can't seem to get interested in anything. Which I suppose is one of the defining characteristics of apathy...
There are about half a dozen things that I could, even should be doing. And about a dozen people I could call/write/email that would distract me from that. But I can't even find a way to be interested in procrastinating. That, at least, should garner an exclamation point but, eh. I just don't care that much.
I can't even count the number of times I've been in the middle of a conversation lately, even with someone I can normally tolerate, and I realize that I couldn't care less about what they are saying. I have no interest in responding. Half the time I've been paying so little attention that I'm not even sure what I'm responding to. I try to rewind the conversation in my head, and realize I care even less now. And it's not like my mind was even wandering to somewhere more important or interesting, I just stopped participating.
So I apologize to all of those people I should be calling, should be interacting with, promised to get a hold of and/or hang out with. Truly it's me, not you. Unless you really are boring, irritating or uninteresting. Then my mind is wandering because, well, you're boring, irritating, and uninteresting.
You would think that by age 32 I would stop being surprised by the fact that adulthood is not nearly as exciting as I expected it to be.
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