Tuesday, April 07, 2015

"It's about as pointless as our morning dodge routine."

 Wherein Jack complains. Or whines. Or is rude. Or is all of the above.

 Sometimes I read something by a talented person. Or I see a picture online of someone who sculpted the yellow brick road completely out of sand and added life size images of Dorothy, the Tin Man, Scarecrow, and the Lion. Sometimes when this happens I become rude. Sometimes I glare at said art work made out of sand and mutter complaints about the talented people.

 It's not as if I dislike talented people. I think my problem with it is, HOW CAN SOMEONE HAVE THAT KIND OF TALENT AND MY BIGGEST TALENT IS...nothing? 

 Okay, so that isn't completely true. I do have a talent. I'm very good at it.

 I have the ability to turn completely typical situations awkward.

 Yep! I am so good at it. I should get some kind of badge, or medal. An award? A smilie sticker? 

 Today I went to the post office. Normal, right? All I had to do was ship off some books. Put them in little boxes and send them off. So simple! 

 I walked into the post office confident I had this under control. After all, I fit into the adult age. I'm living in a state all on my lonesome without my mummy and daddy. Mail a box? Pfft. No problem. This wasn't even adult stuff. I've been mailing things for years.

 In I walked, my bomber jacket covered in snow from the randomly blizzard which hit me while I was out walking. I was balancing three very large books, my wallet, and phone. Oh, and my notebook. I stepped into the mailing area and stopped.

 Big mistake.

 All of my confidence drained out of me when I saw...Heavens! People! Suddenly I wasn't in the adult range of age but a five-year-old who was in dire need of her mommy...and a lolly pop. Because those things are good.

 The biggest problem with this whole endevour was that I couldn't turn and leave. I was already late getting the books out, and I HAD to do it today. I couldn't come up with a good reason to put it off for another day.

 Trying to pretend I still had the confidence to go through with this I set my books down and looked around for mailing packages. I saw rows of boxes, and more rows of boxes, and MORE boxes. How many boxes does one need to chose from?

 Of course, I did the normal thing in this situation. I panicked. Who wouldn't?! All those boxes! All those notes about the boxes! The mail man standing there and watching me intently! What if I picked the wrong box and he started throwing daggers at me? Were there boxes which had to be used for massive books? What if I grabbed a box meant for over seas and paid a hundred dollars so my books might get the grand tour of England while I was left behind?

 After much contemplation and wandering around I reminded myself of the adult age thing. "I've got this," I decided. I collected my books and approached the mail man. I intended to, in a very adult tone of voice as I've heard other adult age people use, ask the man while box might be best for my books and not cost me the fortune I didn't have.

 Bold and sure of myself, I walked up to him and set my teetering pile down. He eyed me with what I felt was disdain and the look of, "Oh great, one of THOSE costumers." All my nerve melted into the floor and I was back to wanting a lolly pop.

 I don't remember exactly what I asked, but it came out as a very childish, "How do I mail things?" kind of thing. He pointed me in the direction of the massive envelopes and I scrambled off with everyone in line now interested in the doings of the strange five foot something being. (I should have loudly declared I'm originally from Wyoming and they all would have left me alone.)

 If you're wondering, I did manage to get the books off. And the mail man praised me as one might praise a little kid who did a good job on their finger art. "You did well." (I will mention here I still didn't get a smilie sticker. If I'm going to get praised for something, at least throw in a sticker.)

 If I was still as painfully shy as I used to be I'd never show my face in that post office again. I'm now tempted to go back in tomorrow with my hair in pig tails, just skip in the door or something.

 And that is the story of how I mailed some books.I then came home and read about Iwo Jima. Nothing like crying over WWII after venturing out into the world.

 That is all now. I have work to do.

 Quote is from Unbroken. (Shocked, right?!)




  1. But you did it! Despite your fear, you got those books in the mail. That's what counts.

  2. Gah. People.

    Back in the day, before I was interested in WWII history, I read everything I could get my hands on about the Easter Rebellion in Dublin. It was a very short rebellion, lasting about a week, but it was a hugely pivotal event it Irish history... More to the point, the headquarters for the rebellion was the General Post Office, and for years, I never merely went to the post office. I charged the GPO with the rest of the rebels. Charging into battle was (and often, still *is*) my way of facing things I don't want to face. Like people.

    Oh, and I am good at making ordinary chores awkward too. If there is a way for me to make an idiot of myself in public.... I do. And then I slink home to drink tea and eat chocolate.

  3. Great job facing your fear!
    I do that all the time... imagining people are judging me. Usually, it's all in my imagination. My insecurities and fears and making it seem like no one is on my side. And even if people do think I'm clumsy and stupid, why should I care? I know I'm a bit clumsy and I'm fine with it, and I know I'm smart. Their opinions shouldn't matter... and yet, they do.
    It's something I've been working on because I don't want to be held back from doing anything or going anywhere because I'm afraid of what people will think of me.

  4. My, this was fun to read :') I'm glad you managed to mail it!

  5. I am laughing, but only because I can so relate. This is the way I feel about post offices, doctor's offices, dentists, buying groceries... it does get better... I am able to do most of those things now without panicking. Our post office is home to possibly the kindest, friendliest post-office-workers in existence, so that is very nice, especially since I mail stuff all the time! Calling the doctor or the dentist still freaks me out, though.

    Congrats on mailing your books! You should definitely have gotten a sticker. And a lollypop.

    1. And I hear ya about the whole not being talented thing. My talent tends to revolve around being able to watch an entire season of something on netflix in a weekend.

      But then someone reminds me.... "You write books." in an awed tone, as if that was something I do because I'm talented, and not because the words would burst out of me if I didn't... perhaps that's what it's like for painters and sculptors and musicians. Maybe the paint and music and statues would just explode out of them if they didn't give vent to the art and music inside them.

  6. Oh, goodness...I'd hate to have to go out in public alone...

    And sometimes I feel the exact same way about not being talented.

  7. I feel like I am reading a biography of myself here....oh man. XD This was GREAT! I do that all the time, and you know what? I am at the post office nearly every day because I'm an avid pen-pal (because, ya know, pen-paling is good for introverts) but I am STILL all freaked out about trying to mail stuff or even pick up packages. Oh the woes of being tragically shy.... And you know I have tried so hard to not be shy......but nope. I'm still SHY. *sigh*

    Anyway, yes, and I totally get you about the talent thing. For me it's always looking at awesome blogs....like yours ("She's a PUBLISHED author!") or Treskie's ("SUCH ARTWORK!") or really anybody's.

    I think that we just generally tend to underrate ourselves and our talents.

    1. Ditto to both your post, Jack, and Hannah Joy's comment completely. I'm the same way...I'm adult age, but since I don't have my license still, I just tag along with me Mum, and she does most of the talking to people. XD

      As for letter-writing, I am also an avid pen-paller (is that a word?!), but I usually stick to mailing them in our mailbox is at all possible. ^.^

  8. I can definitely relate. I fit into the adult age too, but I still want to rely on my mom to do my people interaction and stuff. I'm always afraid of making mistakes, which might be a reason I make so many of them.

  9. I'm pretty sure we're kindred spirits. "How do I mail things?" I can relate so much. =)

  10. This is hilarious. :) Not that I'm laughing at you, just that I am thinking of so many instance when I'm telling myself "I'm an adult. I'm one of them. I've got this- Uh, wait. . . how does one go about doing this exactly?"

    And than some wickedly perceptive person notices my ignorance/shyness/teeter self confidence and decides to, eh, mother me. Then my self esteem takes a nose dive to around -39. It doesn't help that I look maybe three or four years younger than I really am and people think I'm in high school. I hate being patronized, but then again if I don't know what I'm doing, logically I'm not capable enough to refuse help. I don't like asking for help though, partly because I'm shy, and partly because I'm stubborn and stupidly independent. I prefer to grit my teeth and figure it out myself. (Recently, I've taken to googling things on my phone.) But, uh, this isn't always a good idea either. I'll do things the hard way, or make a mess of everything. So it might be God's grace in disguise when there happens to be a congenial, yet wickedly perceptive person around. :P


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