It's a pity party and I'm the guest of honor- All right, more stuff from my mind. I met with my group today. I was almost embarrassed to meet with them because I felt like I had done such a horrible job butchering up our assignment. Ah, come on, at least I turned it in. Not like the other groups did such a great job.
I feel like I always say too much. I wish I could just say very little and have the things I say always be right. Every sentence would be some wonderful platitude, and I would never think back to something I have said and think that I was totally wrong and I must have looked like an idiot.
I want to be right, so I act like a know-it-all. The things I know turn out to be wrong, or worse, I make something up to make myself look smarter. Open mouth, insert foot. Come on, we can't all be right all the time. Stupid things will be said, stupid things will be done, misunderstandings will occur. The things I say are rarely, if ever, 100-percent accurate. Eighty percent max. Still, it seems like everyone else who is worth anything says intelligent things. And me, I say things that are weird and sometimes spaced-out, pseudo-intellectual, lacking depth, anxious to a fault. Yeah, I'm supposed to know everything....but I don't.
I revel in the hard times (yes, there have been hard times), the days of depression and death, the days of addiction and psychological disorders, the days after the divorce. Days when I've had no friends. The weeks of sickness and stress and there's no way out.