I don’t know what to write. But I want to write because I’m bored. I’m almost always bored, except when I write. It’s a sure way out of boredom. It works every time. As long as I write. Doesn’t really matter WHAT I write. Nonsense is good enough. It’s just sad for whoever is reading. Expecting some well thought out blogpost. This is not one of them. It’s completely spontaneous. Going nowhere. I’m full of everything and nothing. Don’t know what’s going to come out next. Change paragraph.
This is a new paragraph. My mother-in-law is coming. My sister-in-law too, with her new baby. I’m drinking wine. Well not really, my glass is empty. Refill, please! I never ask my wife to serve me. Never. Never. I never ask for anything for that matter, from anyone. When I want something, I get it myself. I have this saying: “If you want to be well-served, then serve yourself. There is no better service.”
We went to a wedding yesterday. Afterwards, when we got home, my wife said that I was not antisocial. I keep saying how antisocial I am, but when I find myself in a group, I am social. Then why do I think that I am not social? She said I was more sociable than she was yesterday. It’s true, I was. I have to figure out this mystery.
I guess it’s because I don’t get a kick out of it. Social people get energized, excited and happy when they socialize. I don’t. It leaves me kind of blank. It does nothing for me. I can make people laugh or not laugh and it’s just the same to me. My self-worth is not based on how other people perceive me.
So what is my self-worth based on?