Maybe I need to get out more...

 

I am not the best company to be around, even with myself.  I never really know what to talk about.  I mean, I’ve known me all of my life but that’s just the thing… what’s left to say to myself?  I can tell myself jokes but I already know the punch line.

Yes, I still snicker, but that’s just because I think they’re funny.  That’s beside the point.  I find myself boring.  I am completely familiar with my history, I bring nothing new to the table and I know all of the same people that I know.  So what’s left?

If I go out and try something new and exciting, by the time I get back home I already know about it.  I don’t even get the pleasure of telling myself how my day was.

I’m beginning to think that I don’t have a normal division between my conscience and my subconscious.   I’m somehow just a little different from the rest of you.

 

It’s like my Great Grandfather.  He was always a little different.  I remember - out of all the people in America, his was the only paperwork to have a typo.

 

He was given 40 mules and an acre.