Your chance to step into my shoes... one post at a time.
January 26, 2010
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Time & again
I manage to redefine disappointment. I wonder why it is my life seems to be an endless series of me disappointing people: Frau Schraudolph, my mother, my friends & myself. Are their expectations too high or does the fault lie with me? Or maybe I should stop promising things to other people. Maybe I should be upfront about my capabilities & handicaps (myself & myself, respectively). Maybe that’s the way to go. But I could never live with that level of mediocrity, where nobody expected anything of me. (That’s right, not even I, Queen of Mediocrity.)
So tired of living with the knowledge that somewhere, someone is being disappointed by me. Not actively, please. I couldn’t bear it if my actions were actively triggering negative emotions in someone just because I happen to not have had time to cultivate a healthy respect for deadlines & the like. Much better if that disappointment could be passive, & fade out of their minds once they stop contemplating how a person could stand being so… blah. (Despite sounding altruistic, my desire to not upset someone undoubtedly has selfish roots in the thousands of years of evolution. I probably just don’t want to damage their impressions of me further than I already have, to ease my job of eliciting some improbable benefit from them in the distant future.)
Even the act of writing this post has siphoned off valuable time that could’ve been spent writing my Kursarbeit. My God, I hate teachers who inspire disappointment & shame & guilt instead of healthy eye-rolling.
Silver lining in this shitty little cloud: Maybe this was my special talent. Maybe I was born to disappoint.
Silver lining in above shitty little silver lining: Won’t have to invest time nor effort to hone this shitty little talent of mine; I seem to possess a god-given aptitude for it. (Let’s postpone the religious argument for another day.)
Exhausted. Back to actively disappointing people. (Enough of that passive slacker-shit.)
