The holding pattern continues
I feel suspiciously like I am waiting for something to happen. I’m waiting to have increased job satisfaction. I am waiting for the gigantic hole in my wall to magically disappear. I am waiting for something entertaining and fun to happen. It occurs to me that, instead of waiting, I should likely take one of two courses of action: accept that sometimes there exists periods in one’s life where nothing is happening, but that it isn’t necessarily a bad thing; or go out and make the things that I want to happen, happen.
I’m leaning towards accepting that sometimes just being is enjoyable. I have never been able to just be. Also, from my dating experience, I have arrived at the conclusion that the important things cannot be forced, created or made to happen. They will either happen, or they won’t.
So I am back to entertaining myself. My mother told me that I have never been able to entertain myself. I’m not sure why this is. My brother would happily play for hours, stringing all of his Matchbox cars into a lengthy parade that wound through our living room and around the legs of our piano bench. He would make up songs and sing them while he did this. I, on the other hand, have memories stemming back to before Jay being born (I would have been four years old) that involve me trailing after my mother as she moved from one room in the house to the other. Why did I do this? This strange habit didn’t dwindle or fade with time. Sometimes, as a joke, Michael would get up from the couch in the living room and move into the bedroom. After five minutes I would wander in and ask what he was doing.
For a while I thought that this was some kind of flaw in my personality that I needed to change, which opens up a plethora of other questions, such as: if this facet of my personality has always existed, is it really a flaw, or is it just the way I am? Is preferring to be in the company of others over being in the company of oneself wrong? Perhaps I am the equivalent of a hyper-active border collie, which requires much attention and exercise or it goes batty. Other people are more like affable, easy going golden retrievers. Neither is wrong, they just are that way. It is what it is. (Oh, fun thing to do? If you’re ever on a date with someone that has their masters in philosophy, say “it is what it is”. Drives them apeshit.)
I think the conclusion is this: I am the way I am. The majority of the time I would rather being hanging out with a friend/friends, though I do enjoy some solitary pursuits. When things aren’t “happening” for me the way I would like, I have a tendency to try and force them, which I shouldn’t do, because things will “happen” on their own terms. So I will just keep on doing my thing, but I will try to accept that I can’t control every aspect of my life. Like nuns driving into me. Or, say, water jettisoning from my kitchen light fixture. I can’t control the weather, either. I could run faster though, but it’s harder so I choose not to. I could also do a better job controlling my weight, but food is tasty. Get in my belly. And the things that I wish I could do with other people I can do by myself. I can go to the cool coffee shop on 10th and read the paper… alone. I can go to movies on my own. I can hold my own hand, tell me that I’m beautiful, get me a little tipsy and get into my pants. Oh wait, I already do that.
Where’s the ball? Go get the ball! Go get it!!
I’m leaning towards accepting that sometimes just being is enjoyable. I have never been able to just be. Also, from my dating experience, I have arrived at the conclusion that the important things cannot be forced, created or made to happen. They will either happen, or they won’t.
So I am back to entertaining myself. My mother told me that I have never been able to entertain myself. I’m not sure why this is. My brother would happily play for hours, stringing all of his Matchbox cars into a lengthy parade that wound through our living room and around the legs of our piano bench. He would make up songs and sing them while he did this. I, on the other hand, have memories stemming back to before Jay being born (I would have been four years old) that involve me trailing after my mother as she moved from one room in the house to the other. Why did I do this? This strange habit didn’t dwindle or fade with time. Sometimes, as a joke, Michael would get up from the couch in the living room and move into the bedroom. After five minutes I would wander in and ask what he was doing.
For a while I thought that this was some kind of flaw in my personality that I needed to change, which opens up a plethora of other questions, such as: if this facet of my personality has always existed, is it really a flaw, or is it just the way I am? Is preferring to be in the company of others over being in the company of oneself wrong? Perhaps I am the equivalent of a hyper-active border collie, which requires much attention and exercise or it goes batty. Other people are more like affable, easy going golden retrievers. Neither is wrong, they just are that way. It is what it is. (Oh, fun thing to do? If you’re ever on a date with someone that has their masters in philosophy, say “it is what it is”. Drives them apeshit.)
I think the conclusion is this: I am the way I am. The majority of the time I would rather being hanging out with a friend/friends, though I do enjoy some solitary pursuits. When things aren’t “happening” for me the way I would like, I have a tendency to try and force them, which I shouldn’t do, because things will “happen” on their own terms. So I will just keep on doing my thing, but I will try to accept that I can’t control every aspect of my life. Like nuns driving into me. Or, say, water jettisoning from my kitchen light fixture. I can’t control the weather, either. I could run faster though, but it’s harder so I choose not to. I could also do a better job controlling my weight, but food is tasty. Get in my belly. And the things that I wish I could do with other people I can do by myself. I can go to the cool coffee shop on 10th and read the paper… alone. I can go to movies on my own. I can hold my own hand, tell me that I’m beautiful, get me a little tipsy and get into my pants. Oh wait, I already do that.
Where’s the ball? Go get the ball! Go get it!!
posted by Duder at 10:29 AM
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