I started writing about my daily routine, about my diet and exercise regimen, and it went like this:
I feel great. I never worked out or did any kind of exercise or played sports or got
into any kind of fitness before. And then there was the whole drinking too much and not taking care of myself and staying
up all night. And plus I ate all that horrible fatty oily disgusting processed and pre-packaged food type products.
But now, I plan all my meals and work out twice a day and it's so totally awesome and
I feel great and have lost a ton of weight.
This is as far as I got before I realized how incredibly boring it is to talk about that crap. The fact that I could
think something as boring as that was far less discouraging than the fact that I could write a paragraph and a half before
realizing it.
And it's not that I don't love to talk about myself, because I do. I think I lead a fascinating life and I love to talk
about who I am and the things I do and what I like and don't like. But it all seems so interesting when I'm thinking about
it that I almost want to jump off a building when I read through it later and realize how boring my life really is.
It makes me wonder about the people that I call friends, who will sit and listen for hours and engage me in conversation
about the most extreme minutiae of my life. Since I am really boring, I am starting to think that they either really don't
like me at all and are just being polite when they ask me about the details of my life, or they're simply much more boring
than I am and don't notice.
If they secretly hate me for boring them with details of my life, like how much weight I've lost, my diet and my kids
and how I work out and whatever else is going on in my life, then they're really not my friends at all. Not only that, since
all of them talk to me and since most all of them know each other, I can only logically conclude that when I'm not around,
they sit around and talk about how boring I am. At the very least, they give each other knowing looks and laugh to themselves
when my name is mentioned.
Even though in the past I've just been paranoid and insecure enough to actually believe that, now that I can put it all
in persepective I realize how stupid that is. Because now that I'm kind of out there in the real world, I can listen to all
the conversations they have with each other and it becomes quickly apparent that they're all just as boring as I am.
But when I hear a lonely unmarried chick talking about her cat, or a neglected housewife living vicariously through her
teenage daughter's stories about band camp, or a slightly unbalanced graphic designer bragging about how much money he got
back on his tax return, I have to wonder. And I wonder how they would describe me. And I worry about it for about three seconds
and then I realize that, since they're all boring and I'm really not, I could care less. And then I take a nap.
