How did I get here? Why am I the way I am? I don’t know. I try to figure it out when I have nothing better to do and come up with the same non-answers all the time. I’m more like my Dad, even though I adored my Mother. I’m black and white, no nonsense, short conversations, get to the point, me.
I have a friend/co-worker who is so up and positive and almost annoying. She’s always saying with her voice half-an-octave too high [except, perhaps, for canines!] “Oh, good for YOU!” whether it fits the conversation well or not. For example. Yesterday we were discussing our college-age children. Mikelle had just made a payment to her school. I said, ” Mikelle didn’t want to pay because evidently she likes to keep her checking account at a $1000.
“Oh, Good for HER!”
Me: “The only problem is, whenever she pays something she calls her dad and asks for money.”
“Oh, Good for HER!”
Me: “Good for her? Well, not good for us! I just paid her insurance. It was $342.10!”
“Oh, Good for YOU!”
Later I noticed several students were genuinely excited to see her working [not her regular shift.] They hugged her and she was squeaking away . . Good for YOU!s all over the place. She walked down the hall with a couple of girls and let them in the year book room.
Me? I would have insisted they wait until their teacher gets there. But she tries to help the kids with whatever they need. She always goes above and beyond. She’s like that in her neighborhood as well. Several [and I mean SEVERAL] widows count on her to help them with grocery shopping, doctor appointments, and a listening ear.
I try to be good. I try to be helpful and serve in my assignments and callings. I do my visiting teaching every month. I try to call my children and grandchildren. I try to do what I’m supposed to do. But I really can’t do the overly-excited-fakey-friendly-cheerful-gaggy stuff. Just not my cup of Postum.
And yet she has SO MANY FRIENDS!
Me? I like to be alone! I like peace and quiet. I like a good movie, a good murder mystery. I like down time, quiet music . . . uplifting, but quiet. I like one grandchild at a time. I like a toasty blanket and a rice pack and steaming vegetable broth. Or hot tomato soup made with water, not milk. I like short phone calls and long Dr. Oz shows. I love sleeping in the car with the sunshine beating down on it. I love creating the perfect craft for a loved one, but get tired of it quickly. [So many half-finished projects.] I like my bed made every single day. I like things in their place.
My daughter says I like things more than I like people. Probably.
But how did I get here? Why am I the way I am? I don’t know. I try to figure it out when I have nothing better to do and come up with the same non-answers all the time. I’m more like my Dad, even though I adored my Mother. I’m black and white, no nonsense, short conversations, get to the point, me . . .