Some days are meant just to catch up and ruminate – and others to indulge others’ laziness and/or stupidity. I thought this morning that today might be the first of those choices, (and I enjoy the rare delight of not being overly pestered or rushed,) but I am finding out very quickly that it’s going to be one of those days I spend thinking for and pointing out the obvious for others because they are unwilling to think for themselves, or are incapable of thinking, and/or of discerning the obvious for themselves.
I’ve said it before. I am certainly no rocket scientist. I’m lucky to get out the door with all the crap I need for one day. I forget things, misplace things, and I find that most of the time I am more reactive than proactive. As far as examples go, everyone is an example of something, and for the most part my example is a cautionary tale of, “What Not to Do.” As far as “What Not to Do” goes, I could write a book. Maybe I should.
So who died and made me some sort of twisted Ann Landers, whose advice is sought in matters ranging from things automotive (while I am not the final authority by any means, at least I do have some experience and expertise in this field) to relationships (really good to ask advice on interpersonal relationships from someone with Asperger’s who borders on being both agoraphobic and antisocial) to (and this is the kicker) “Where the Hell Did I Put My Stuff?” As far as relationships go, asking me advice would be about as effective as asking the guys who built the Titanic to engineer you an unsinkable boat. I am not the right person to find anyone else’s stuff, either. Half the time I can’t find my own. I’m doing good to make it through the day without misplacing one of my three essentials- the cell phone, the Bluetooth, and the MP3 player.
One of my favorite tools when I am asked for advice is the Magic 8 Ball. I have one. They’re about $8 at Target- look in the toys and games. I know, it’s a rather technologically primitive device that dates back to the late 1940’s, but it is every bit as accurate as my advice on subjects outside the narrow areas of my expertise.
Perhaps those around me don’t realize just how emotionally stunted I am, or maybe they ask my opinion because most of the time I make decisions based on practicality and utility- or expediency. I have worked very hard my entire life to compensate for my weaknesses, but there are some areas in which I am just plain inept no matter how hard I try. Anything involving gross motor coordination- forget it. I do good to walk in a straight line without tripping or falling down. As far as social interaction goes, I am always monitoring and second-guessing myself because I am not good at reading (or sending) non-verbals. I can put on a good show if I need to, but it takes far too much conscious effort. Imagine if you had to consciously think about and analyze your breathing. This is the mental effort it takes for me in social situations. The ability to socialize and converse face to face with people does not come naturally to me at all.
So, by some strange twist of fate, who always seems to get elected to be the hospitality committee? It’s like expecting the class midget to play center on the basketball team.
I’ve never seen myself as having anything but rudimentary (at best) social skills, but other people either don’t seem to notice or don’t seem to care. Maybe I put on a better show than I thought.
Shakespeare said that “all the world’s a stage.” The sad thing for me is that most of the time I want nothing more than to escape scrutiny and blend into the wall. I seriously need to schedule a real vacation (root word: vacate, as in get out of Dodge) and get in some extreme ivory tower time before I start ripping people’s heads off. Dealing with other people just plain wears me out.
I wouldn’t mind just camping out at home- sleeping, reading, writing, doing some cross-stitch, digging me some Tru-TV and jamming to some classic rock, except that I won’t be left alone to do those sorts of things. I would end up being roped into errand-running, cleaning, and divers other activities that I don’t want to do. I know I should put my foot down at times but I also have to choose my battles. As much as I hate to admit it, usually it’s easier to just do whatever so I don’t have to take the browbeating.
I have been challenged to refrain from making negative comments about Jerry for entire month of February. I am sincerely going to try. I admit, while he is challenging, I can be a rather harsh judge. In some ways he deserves it, but I couldn’t be easy to live with either.