I believe my life would have been better if a lot of the other people who were in it had not been in it.
Sometimes you can control who’s in your life; sometimes you can’t.
I read how you should surround yourself with cheerful, positive people, and now it’s much easier to do than it was in the past.
My mother insisted we be nice, even to relatives she didn’t like, because not to be was impolite. How does that make any kind of sense? That’s the people who could not be avoided in my life. As I grew older, I’d go in my room when they showed up and stay until they left. My mother would get upset with me and tell me how rude I’d been after they left. With my teenage feeling of having my own ideas, I’d come back with how fake she’d been waving good-bye and telling them to come back again when she’d started griping the moment their car pulled up outside.
In college I was once again surrounded by people I could not get away from. Group work! Oh, how I hated group work. I worked three hours a day the whole time I was in college and could not meet at the strange hours everyone else was available (how does 2:00 in the afternoon sound?). They could not understand my situation and I could not do without the money I was making by skipping work. Often, my unusual, intelligent ideas (I am now a member of Mensa, but with that comes the fact that often my ideas, which would have worked very well, were viewed as non-understandable and non-acceptable by the group) were immediately rejected. Tell me again why I needed to be there for group work.
All this blog came about because this morning I was outside with my young dog, who sees herself as my protector. I had her on a lead, but it did not prevent her from trying to run and bark at some idiot who chose 6:30 in the morning, in the rain, to try to see how slowly they could walk past my house. It’s Saturday and I didn’t want my dog to wake the neighbors with her incessant barking at whomever it was who was passing by at that hour – from whence had they come? So I had to pull my dog back and in the process, my hands, which were both damaged by a Pit Bull attack last year (yes, the Pit Bull belonged to another person), have hurt ever since. Maybe the thing to do would have been to let the dog bark her head off at the passerby?
Other people become less important to me as I age. Some I can see right through, as I couldn’t when I was younger. “Everyone who smiles at you is not your friend” should have been said to me a lot sooner than it was.
Friends? I see people with hundreds of friends on facebook and I wonder why? Who wants 600 “friends” or more? Are they planning to run for office?
I’m thinking of becoming a hermit. I just need to find a place to recluse myself.
Other people, more often than not, cause aggravation and strife where there is none when I’m alone.
That’s another thing . . . being alone. I LOVE IT! Some people, I’ve noticed, cannot bear to be alone with their own company. Why is that?
Well, other people started this day badly for me, but I’ll be damned if other people will ruin the whole day.
Added Later Today: How ironic that I would come across this quote after writing this:
“All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”