I find myself amusing. There, I've said it. Now we can all move on with our lives. But really, no one cracks me up quite as much as me, and you know what? That's probably a good thing. I'll always have plenty of good company if I ever find myself on a deserted island, or even just at a dull conference or on a lousy date.
Not that I date any more. In fact, aside from the whole "wax moustache, chew with mouth closed" stuff I'm not sure I would even know how. Why, just a few days ago, the stars aligned in such a fashion that DH and I ended up at the supper table alone together. Alone. Together. It was so peaceful, so conducive to conversation - or at least digestion - that we naturally didn't know what to do with ourselves. Perhaps there once was a time in the distant past where we would have taken the opportunity engage in wild, crazy and spontaneous ... dialogue ... right there in the kitchen, but as it were I smooshed peas on the wall just so I'd have something to clean up. All that tranquility, you know? I guess I just snapped.
The point is, I was thinking I had to be interacting with someone else. If I had just gone to my Happy Place - that is, inside my head to hang out wit' my bad self - I would have been fine. No wall peas necessary.
This is referred to by some as social ineptitude. But they just don't know how fun it is in here.