Sunday, December 07, 2014
Tis the season
I was having a bad knee day, so I opened up all the containers, fiddled with some stuff, and sat down, clueless about how to begin. God must have noticed I needed help, because he sent the oldest granddaughter just in time, and she did most of the tree-trimming. She is all about Christmas!
Christmas is rough for an introvert. Not painful, mind you. Just uncomfortable. Here's an example: The grandson's future in-laws are having a cookie- and candy-making day, and they mentioned to him that I should join in the festivities. "Leave her alone," Arick told them. "She hates people."
I don't hate people. I just hate trying to conform and say the right things and make small talk with people I have little in common with. I'm the person who, if you have friends who haven't met me and you know I'm about to show up, you prepare them first by telling them, as my grandson does, that "I have no filters." I'm the one who insults somebody at a gathering without ever knowing I did it.
I'm that one who, after partaking of a meal anywhere in public, ends up looking as though she carried her own beet juice along to sprinkle on the tablecloth. Cliff tries to watch and clean me up as I dribble food on my shirt and in my lap, but it's a rough job. And the funny thing is, he's the one who is embarrassed by my sloppiness. I'm not bothered by a little mess.
If you take me somewhere, I will embarrass you. Besides, my knees hurt, and I would just as soon be home playing Sudoku or reading a book.
But I don't hate you. I probably really LIKE you.