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Location: Northern California

Sunday, August 21, 2005

 

My cup runneth you over

The other day I met up with a casual acquaintance and we started chit chatting about the usual stuff. How was your vacation? How's the husband? What are your plans for the rest of the summer?

Etc. Blah blah blah.

As I gabbed and she responded, I realized that most of her comments corrected my own. For instance, out of my mouth came, "My tech writing skills are so rusty I'm not even sure I could pay an employer to hire me as a technical writer." To which she replied, "Nonsense. You haven't even been out of the workforce for two years. You could spend a weekend fooling around with the software and be ready for an interview on Monday morning."

I know that.

On the topic of husbands I joked, "If Mike actually worked with any women, I might be worried when he works late." At this she frowned and responded, "Mary! Why would you worry about something like that? Mike doesn't strike me as a guy who plays around."

You're right. I know that.

Eventually I realized what the problem was; why our conversation was stilted and she was clearly uneasy with my self-degredating banter. See, she's one of those people that always sees the glass as half full. Always. She doesn't like talk -- chit chatty or otherwise -- of half empty glasses. Nooooo. That kind of talk is negative and we must be positive. Where's our happy face, people? Calling all happy campers! Happy happy happy!

Yuck.

I'm the kind of person who talks as though my glass is half empty even when I know that it's positively brimming. Or that it could be at any moment if I just got off my lazy behind and went over to the coffee pot to fill it up. I guess I just think it's funnier to think (and talk) about life as though it were one of those joke mugs you can buy in magic shops. Is it half full or half empty? I don't know, but somebody just spilled whatever was in it all over your carpet! Ha Ha!

I think next time I see this woman at Safeway I'll stick to the booze aisle until she leaves. Something tells me she'll never find me there.