Well, hello again.
This has been another unintended break in my continuous stream of nonsense postings, but worry not. I have had plenty to keep me occupied. Work, mostly. Where people are now likely to pick me up and carry me around the service desk, and tell me they think I should dress up as a ballerina, or that I should wait for them to get off work so I can give them a foot massage, or make remarks while we’re crammed in the service elevator with two elephants filled with garbage about how now we can be alone together, or offer to stalk me on xanga if they ever find out my username, and read back through the nearly eight years of material I have stocked up here so that they have things to talk to me about…
I feel sure that sometimes people don’t realise that while each individual incident might be amusing, the sum of said incidents renders their behaviour uncomprehendable. (At least we can subtract the bit about me being picked up and twirled around the service desk, as that was a different person.)
But all the other ones…what does one do with such an individual? I’ve been told that we’re alike…but that doesn’t help me. If I were to behave in this way, I would probably say I was out of my mind. Is this how people make friends these days? I fail to understand…
I’ve really never thought of myself as being likable, anyway. Never. Who would want to be friends with me once they know me? What good qualities do I have? I mean…I haven’t, have I? I feel like you’ve got to be a little bit crazy to want to know me after I start in on what I really feel I am like…and after you experience me in a bad temper…which is why I have so few genuine friends who know both what I am like, and what I think I am like…and one who doesn’t know me now, but is probably the only one now who can remember what I was like before.
And that’s not even the sort of thing you learn about someone until after you have become friends. But people don’t become my friends. I find it hard to imagine people wanting to. I am not a fun person, and I never have been. And that’s what matters, right? Being fun. Why hang out with someone who can’t have fun. No point. Nothing to be gained there.
So…work, right? That’s what I’ve been up to. Because I can’t make friends. I don’t know how.
I don’t just “hang out” with people. I like to know about them first. I like to talk. Then if we know each other, we can gauge whether we should hang out at all. I don’t feel like I know many people that well. I know more people on the internets that I feel like I’d be more at ease spending some time with than I do people in “real life”. What would we talk about? (Ah, I see…this is why you stalk people online first. Righto.)
…as you can see, this line of thought is getting me nowhere. I should go to bed.
On a slightly different topic though, I just bought a birthday gift. I thought it was a good idea, and I’m excited for it to arrive…but there’s that other, paranoid me who wonders if it was a stupid idea and wants to pound my head into things. At least it will give me something to stew over for the next few weeks.