No, They Really ARE Laughing AT You

It boggles the mind, really it does.  Well, my mind at any rate.  I have to get out of the "third-person-omniscient" mode.  I was writing up some stuff for work and they wanted things STATED in that "all knowing" kind of way.  You know, where there is no doubt that you received the information from the gods and therefore simply CAN'T be wrong.  Can you tell I was a Lit. major as well as a teacher?

 

Where was I?

Right.

 

I admit that I am off in my own little world a great deal of the time.  It's safe and warm there.  However, I seem to have built plenty of windows to keep an eye out on what others are doing.  Maybe to keep me on my guard, maybe to keep me aware, maybe so people won't laugh too long or hard when they look in my direction?

 

Andy and I experienced vastly different "growing pains" years.  I realized this when he pointed out a couple people in the last few days that he couldn't help but chuckle at and ask (me, not them) if they actually chose to dress the way they did.  I replied that it really is the difference between trying your hardest to fit in, versus trying your hardest to no look like a carbon copy of everyone else.

 

Can you guess what I dressed like on my non-uniform school days?  Remember the kid who wore isotoners to school?  How about a Hawaiian shirt over a summer dress?  Umm Renaissance garb at the graduation practice?  Yup, that would have been me.  In all those years and outfits though, I always kept an eye and ear out to make sure I wasn't the BIGGEST weirdo.  There are limits.

 

I guess that's what makes me different than the "bubble" people.  Those around me that are so focused on their own thing that they don't realize they are the "class/office/bus joke."  Their blinders are cinched on a little too tight.  They don't necessarily have to be "leggings" lady with the Pat Benetar hair cut, or "hiking" woman with the Heidi hairdo, or even Harley Davidson man and his awful mustache and bandanna.  Granted they are fun to look at.  The worst bubble people, the ones I almost feel sorry for, are the "normal" looking ones that I just can't stand because they are so deep into themselves they don't realize no one is listening to the same story they've now told for the 10th time.  Let's face it, if you are not my grandparent/parent or older relative (adoptive ones count too), I have no need to hear the same story over and over and over again.  (I have the messican guilt about respecting those others on my list, you see, besides the older they get the more interesting their same old stories seem to get).

 

I think I'm still ranting about a particular office nuisance, can you tell?  But now, really, today? On the last day here?  I'm realizing that she honestly thinks people are laughing WITH her, and that's just sad, really.