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My days consist of long lazy moments interspersed with flurries of activity. I like to jam as much of the unpleasant "doing" into as little time as possible so I can sit back and enjoy browsing the Internet, writing, or reading a book with a clear conscience. Unpleasant doing would be chores, laundry, errands I don't want to do, things of that ilk.
I like to go out alone. I like people watching. I "compose my own critical notices in my head", as Jarvis Cocker would say, while I'm out and about. I also like putting on my iPod and imagining music videos or stories to go along with the music. I often sit still and run off hand in hand with my imagination.
Generally, it's pleasant to be me. But it's also anxiety inducing. I am a very anxious person. I come across as very self-assured and confident, but it's all an act. People laugh at me when I tell them this, but it's true--I am incredibly shy on the inside. Even my best friend doesn't believe me. My SO does, because he's seen me anxious and self-doubting. The worst of the social anxiety happens after the gatherings, where I play back over what happened, over and over, and dwell on the tiniest of mistakes I might have made, until my stomach hurts. I've managed to get this under control within the last year or so.
I seem like I've got my shit together, but inside it's all a jumble. It's okay. I'm dealing with it. And that leads me to another point. I don't like to be too busy. When I'm too busy, working too much, doing too much, life starts to seem like a pointless march of one foot in front of the other. I am avoiding that march. So far I have been successful.
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If I am not better, at least I am different. --Jean-Jacques Rousseau
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