30 Days (XXV)

A Picture of Something

You Wish You Could Change

At once both my most beloved quality and that which plagues me: my social awkwardness. "I love to take you out in public just to see what happens," my little sister told me the other day. There's a website called "Awkward Social Penguin" (from which I grabbed this picture), and basically if you go through it, every single snapshot is something I do on a daily basis. I chose this one because it's something that happened very recently. I went to Kroger to buy some groceries--you know, eggs and milk, bread, some canned foods--along with some hygienic goods. I miscounted my items and stood in line and then looked down and realized that I had eleven. My heart started racing and my eyes darted all around and my pulse quickened and fear tore through me. I didn't know whether to slide out of line--but then I'd have to make it legit, go back in the aisles for five minutes or so and buy something else--or just hope the cashier wouldn't notice. But what if she did notice? Would she say something? Embarrass me in front of the entire? Would I have to discard an item? Would she think I'm weird? Yeah, she would. Everyone does. So I waited in line and set my basket down when it was my turn and tried to act normal (which just ends up with me being the complete opposite of normal) and refused to make eye contact. She tried to initiate conversation but I just said a few words and stood there awkwardly looking down at the scanner as she swiped the goods. Relief flooded through me when she gave me my total and didn't say anything and as I left I thought to myself, "I dodged that bullet."

Mandy and my little sister told me that "Abort Mission" is something that should go off in my head whenever I speak. I say the most awkward and inappropriate things sometime. Some people stare at me in disbelief, maybe shake their heads. Most don't respond because they don't know how. But my good friends--Dylan and Tyler, for instance; and everyone in Cincinnati--love it, even if they mock me for it. And if I try to be normal for a time--I remember attempting to be normal for a week a few years ago--I fail miserably, and just get bored. I wish I could have all the great quirks of my weirdness without the social leprosy it sometimes causes. Oh well.