stressful day
Today I’m going to lunch to sort out the thing that happened last week, and then I have to decide if I’m going to “Wednesday Night Dinner” with some friends from work. You go to meet people. Scary! I honestly don’t think I’m going to go. First off, my face has broken out (of course!) but secondly, I hate meeting people! It terrifies me! It makes my stomach hurt. Plus, you’re supposed to bring food, and I have no idea what the theme is. If I were to go, I’d want to cook something good. People are going to mix and mingle and I’ll be all by myself. Gak!
I have more to say on the subject but I have to go to work. Damn work, always interfering with my blogging! ;)
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just take booze. it goes with everything.
Booze is readily accepted at WND. But if you become a regular you’re going to have to bring food.
FWIW, I have a paralyzing fear of heights, so you’ll notice that whenever I’m walking with the group to Starbucks or lunch, I’m usually closer to the wall than the glass (!) handrail. (And _someone_ enjoys leaning far over the rail because he knows it makes my knees lock up. Ass.) But I do try to face my fear by standing near the glass when people are not around me or are just standing very still.
Anyway, I wouldn’t give strangers so much credit. When I came out of my shell in the service, I learned that people actually didn’t know that I was painfully shy… they all thought I was pompous and aloof (which kind of hurt my feelings). And that’s really a testament to how self-absorbed people generally are. I found that those around me assumed I had judged them and found them unfit to talk to, when in fact I was under the impression that the opposite was true.
Which is not to say that there aren’t people who overtly choose to judge people, either verbally or through not-so-subtle actions like “elevator eyes.” Fortunately, they run in their own sad little packs and are fairly easy to spot and kill… I mean, avoid. Most of them live in Austin, anyway, so we’re pretty safe.
how weird – i’m exactly the same way. i always assume people don’t like me or don’t remember me, and it turns out that they think i don’t like them. my painful shyness is interpreted as standoffish haughtiness. which is still, to this day, the last thing to occur to me.
but i swear i’m going to the next WND, shyness be damned!
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