Another day, another fist bump.
During his class yesterday, a woman asked him what his last name was. Of course, I was thinking, “Oh, oh! I know, I know! Pick me! I’ve known his name for months!” Alas, I kept quiet. Maybe my maturity level is increasing. I will be twenty three in a little less than two months. It’s about time.
Twenty three. It would be exciting if I felt like I was going anywhere in life. I feel stuck somehow and with every day, I feel like I’m just getting more and more lost. I can’t decide whether it’s this living at home in limbo or the fact that I’m working at this dead end job at almost minimum wage, but the fact remains: I need change. I’ve thought about what I want and I just can’t figure it out. Maybe I want too much. I know what I don’t want.
As per my proclamation of participation, I think it’s getting better. I do need to work on eye contact. I’ve always thought that perhaps I have some form of autism, but that’s never been professionally diagnosed. I could just be significantly socially awkward. I mean, I am really awkward. It could be worse, though. It can almost always be worse.
I was amused yesterday when we were going outside for his class and I held the door open for him. He’s very nice. A gentleman, even. I’m afraid that he’s not how I imagined him, though.
He’s better.
And that was what I was afraid of.
