When I read someone’s blog, I want to comment to form a connection with them. But then when I see that there are already plenty of comments, it makes me not want to comment anymore. I feel like I would only be one of many people who already commented and that it would pretty much make no difference whether I comment or not. I like it more when I’m the sole person doing something. I want to be special. But I’m not. Oh, maybe that’s why I want to be someone’s significant other. I didn’t think I was going to discover something about myself with this little post.
Life generally sucks and is not easy. I do my best to make it go as smoothly as possible but of course, life being the bitch that it is, it rarely goes smoothly despite my best efforts. By the way, this isn’t supposed to be a depressing post. I thought I was just light-heartedly ribbing at life but it turned grim pretty quickly.
That reminds me of one of my water sales demonstrations. I was at a home with a single mom and her two lovely teenage kids, Sabrina and Anthony. I forget the mom’s name but she was really cool too. She was really cold and skeptical at first but she warmed up to me. If I was more of a womanizer, I definitely should’ve hit on her. The kids were really awesome, interested, and involved. Most kids I see are either really bratty or really shy but Sabrina and Anthony were super great. The grandma was awesome too. The grandpa didn’t like my presence at first and called me a scammer but at the end when I didn’t make them buy anything and gave them their prize, he apologized… so sweet. I think I have a crush on their whole family.
At the end of my multi-hour long presentation, the mom asked if I wanted to take the remainder of the water bottle on the road with me. During the presentation, I prove how bad bottled waters are so she started retracting her question before she finished. In an effort to make her not shitty about offering me the bottled water, I ensured her that I don’t mind drinking it even knowing how unhealthy they are. I should’ve stopped there but then I went on and said that it’s just health and I don’t really care about my health and life anyway. That just slipped out of me and the kids couldn’t help but get surprised at how quickly and casually I became grim. They laughed from the surprise and tried to comment by saying: “That’s so…” but they became speechless and couldn’t finish that sentence. I swear it was not as bad as I’m making it sound. Yes, all of that did happen, but I kept talking and steered it a little bit away from the darkness I started delving in.
That was a random tangent of a story that had nothing to do with the title. Back to the topic, I do my best not to be picky in life to hopefully make things go smoother. When people ask me what I want to do, where I want to go, if I want anything, milk, anything, I generally say anything’s fine because it really doesn’t matter to me. Most of the time, going with the flow works. But saying “it doesn’t matter” and not making a decision slows life down a lot in cases like when people offer me milk (or juice or anything. Somehow I feel dirty using milk as the example again, mostly just because of my own dirty mind though.) Over the years, I’ve gotten a lot better at identifying when I’m helpfully complying and when I’m just being an indecisive annoying little bitch. I’m disappointed when I catch myself being the latter.
Here’s another epilogue tangent. Actually, these aren’t even tangents because at no point does it touch the topic at hand. I guess it touches it only in the sense that they’re all thoughts by me. This next thought has zero level of insightfulness but I think it’s funny to describe such a non-thing. The other day, I noticed that when I go for a casual nose picking, if I only get little specks of bugar dust, it’s sort of okay to just flick them anywhere. If you’re a neat freak, I probably sound disgusting right now but I’m talking about bugar so small that you probably have bigger flakes of skin falling off of you when you walk so it literally doesn’t matter. But as the bugar gets bigger, it pretty much depends on mood and laziness whether or not they’re still flickable. After a certain point, a bugar is so big that it needs to be disposed of properly. I guess some slobs could still flick those away but they shouldn’t because after a certain size, the bugar won’t just disappear like dust and would stay in its full form for years to come unless someone cleans it.