I Care Way Too Much
The qualification is confusing too. If I’m working with homeless/needy people I’m concerned to not act all proud of myself so they don’t think I’m some big douchebag. If I go to a high-end retailer I walk around with a “fuck you” expression because I don’t care if anyone likes me.
It’s bizarre. I was just talking to Kater about having a coffee pick-me-up. I think the problem is really that I’m afraid I’ll get stink breath, and have to talk to someone up close and they’ll go on thinking I have stinky breath all the time, and I’ll think about how they might mention to someone else that I had stinky breath and that it was terrible.
Sure it’ll be in good humor, but the next thing you know I’m the guy at the office with stink breath and everyone started to avoid me and I don’t understand why there’s so much animosity so I always think I’m getting fired or something and I’m the only one who doesn’t know it and so I decide that if I have to have coffee, I would need to caution anyone within breath-shot with a disclaimer that I’ve had coffee and that my breath isn’t normally like this and, please God, don’t tell anybody because I really need this job.
It’s that bad.
When I walk down the street or mow the lawn, I feel like people are watching me from all over, which then leads me to act oddly, or at least I think it’s odd, which I then over-correct and become even more odd. (Uh oh, here come the grammar police) For example, if I’m walking down the street and I stumble, I have to put on a show for everyone who may have seen it, often mouthing words like “Oops. Didn’t see that there. Jeez”, but without saying them. You see, the people who are watching me, they can’t tell because they wouldn’t hear me through the glass.
Sometimes I feel like I’m trying too hard to look human. Breath just right, walk a normal speed, enjoy watching Seinfeld.
On the other hand, if I go to Wal-Mart, I don’t care if I have toilet paper hanging from my pants and a hat that says “My other hat is also a hat.” (Actually… I think I’d like that hat.)
So there you go, Internet. I’m, once again, asking you to diagnose me and, if you’re capable, prescribe me some meds. Is anyone else this weird?