Photography courtesy Christopher Micaud
One of the cloudy evenings last week, while I was still fretting over my dull-mundane-typical-housewife-life, I discovered a fundamental difference between myself and the world. You see, while I do love talking & re-visiting my childhood and discussing movies & celebrity gossip, I never like to give a detailed memoir of my life and it's daily activities. I particularly, dislike when people ask me specific questions like - 'Where'd you buy this? How much was it for? When did you buy it?' or 'Which hotel did you stay at? How much did you pay for the room? What did you shop?'. It's another thing if I offer to tell these details on my own but when someone asks it seems they are invading my privacy (I believe, in my case this is a hereditary issue as I have mastered the art of dodging these questions from my parents).
However, the true revelation from this analysis was that most people like to talk about the stuff that 'makes-up-their-day', while I like to talk about what was going on in-my-head during the day. For me, it is more interesting to hear about how one felt/what they thought/whom they met than listening to an empty narration of what one did/where they went/what they ate! Naturally, this has reduced my options of having a conversation with people all together! I used to believe I am an excellent company for all but as it figures out forget excellent only a few are even a decent company for me ...
Note-to-self - You are slowly moving towards isolation. Come back to life! :o)