I’ve been feeling really blasé about life in general. I don’t look forward to things. I just groan about, “Oh, I have to wake up early and vacuum on Saturday mornings again,” or “Oh, I have to help out with those kids after school.” I know it’s not right to gripe about this but sometimes I wish life were more fun. I wish I didn’t have to do stuff I don’t really want to. I don’t really mind helping out and it’s not that hard but my mindset tends to view routine as drudgery, no matter whether I truly don’t like what I do or not.
I wonder if it’s because my social life is limited. (My friends always throw karaoke parties and I don’t get invited because they don’t realize that I’m not always busy, only mostly. Only. Ha.) There’s an up-side to this: I’ve developed the ability to get weeks of entertainment out of 20 minutes of interesting. The next time someone says, “Wow, your life is so much more interesting than mine,” I should tell them I just make it sound interesting. Or I could keep it a trade secret.
That is, when I’m talking one on one. If you want someone who can tell a story to a group, get my club co-president (I’m the other one). Do I sound jealous? I guess I am. I should be participating in discussions, but, well, am I crazy or does everyone else say what I want to say before I do? I guess I’m just slow.
My new piano teacher often says, “It’s O.K., you’re allowed to have an opinion,” in case I disagree with her suggestions. I never know what to say to that. Like, as soon as she says it, bam, I can’t think of an opinion.
Most people just have opinions. I have to think of one.
Of course, the core of all my ‘problems’ is me. My attitude, my behavior, my take on life, whatever. I just don’t take an interest, do I? I mean I do, but in a really really half-assed way.