It would probably be appropriate to call me Mr. Smalltalk. I feel like everyday I'm becoming more and more like my father. I'm not sure if that's a bad thing, or what. When I first started my job and had to drive everywhere, I hated it. I complained to co-workers that I'd much rather be doing what they were doing, getting out of the vehicle and talking to people. I never really talk much with the person in the truck with me. Many times I blame it on the wall separating us, and the fact that I have lousy hearing, but I wonder. Now, I rarely drive, and I am that person that I wanted to be. I go into a stop, smile sincerely, and greet my customer(s):
"Good mornin'! How're y'all doin' today?"
"Fine, thank you! How're you?"
"Not too bad." or "I can't complain!" when I wanna make it more interesting for myself. That statement is usually responded to playfully with, "Good! Because no one would listen anyway, right?" 😛
This is followed by sometimes a few more meaningless ramblings, usually about the weather, which I could NOT care less about, and hearing about it for the 50th time in a day makes me wanna take out my revolver and shoot myself in the face (not in the depressed, suicidal way, just the joking way. At least I think...). Then, I sign for whatever they give me, and leave.
Aside from this, I enjoy the few moments of small talk that I share with my customers that begin to recognize me. Those brief moments brighten my day, and then I leave the customer, get back in the truck, prep my deliveries for the next stop, and usually space out until then, not really saying a word to my driver, unless he needs directions, or we're people-watching. Is it wrong for me to enjoy the short, pointless moments with people I see for a few minutes more than the coworkers I see a lot more often? It's not like I don't LIKE my coworkers. I can even talk to a few of them for more than a few minutes in different circumstances. I'd hate to say it, but I probably talk to customers more than I talk to most of the people in my life, and I find that longer in-depth conversations can sometimes aggravate me. I recently added some old friends on Facebook, but when I logged in, forgot to turn my chat off, and these people actually begin to talk to me, I'm thinking:
"Awww shit. I really don't feel like catching up with these people."
It's not like I don't like these people. These are really cool people from my past that I used to hang out with, or had a great working relationship with. It's not like I don't have room for friends, either. After I come home from work, I'm with my family, and that's it. I don't know why, but I don't have a desire to be more sociable. Any such opportunities create a small sense of dread in me, like it's going to be some sort of inconvenience. I have NO IDEA what's caused me to become like this, and I fear that I'm spiraling towards whatever it is, until I eventually become what my father has become now, hating to be in situations that keep me from working, coming home, and doing nothing extraordinary. Even when I call my parents, if my father answers the phone and my mother's busy with something, we struggle to talk to each other painfully, until he can hand the phone off to my mom. I don't resent him for it or anything, because I somehow "get it".
I don't know if this is submission to living a mundane life of working, providing for my family, and wanting to be left alone, some sort of a depression, or lacking of something else, or what. I feel like I need some sort of escape, but I can't think of anything that would help. Thinking about many enjoyable activities don't stimulate any sense of desire, and the rare ones that do, I talk myself out of for one reason or another. For example, I'd really like to take my gun out to the firing range to pop off some rounds, but then I tell myself that rounds are expensive, and not worth wasting frivolously. They should be saved for home defense. I also want to get to Lowe's to buy wood to build a workbench so that I can get my stained glass workshop started out of my garage, but... I don't even really have an excuse for that one. The only roadblock that stops me there is that I can't interfere with my son's nap-time for a selfish trip to Lowe's. I don't feel that I can express this rut to loved ones, because I can reason out all the proper responses myself. I'd be wasting my breath getting answers I already know. I also don't wish to burden them with my shit. Not even my wife. ESPECIALLY my wife. Not sure why I'm so guarded from her, but that's just the way it is. I don't know what else to say about it. Either that, or I'm just bored typing this.
"Good mornin'! How're y'all doin' today?"
"Fine, thank you! How're you?"
"Not too bad." or "I can't complain!" when I wanna make it more interesting for myself. That statement is usually responded to playfully with, "Good! Because no one would listen anyway, right?" 😛
This is followed by sometimes a few more meaningless ramblings, usually about the weather, which I could NOT care less about, and hearing about it for the 50th time in a day makes me wanna take out my revolver and shoot myself in the face (not in the depressed, suicidal way, just the joking way. At least I think...). Then, I sign for whatever they give me, and leave.
Aside from this, I enjoy the few moments of small talk that I share with my customers that begin to recognize me. Those brief moments brighten my day, and then I leave the customer, get back in the truck, prep my deliveries for the next stop, and usually space out until then, not really saying a word to my driver, unless he needs directions, or we're people-watching. Is it wrong for me to enjoy the short, pointless moments with people I see for a few minutes more than the coworkers I see a lot more often? It's not like I don't LIKE my coworkers. I can even talk to a few of them for more than a few minutes in different circumstances. I'd hate to say it, but I probably talk to customers more than I talk to most of the people in my life, and I find that longer in-depth conversations can sometimes aggravate me. I recently added some old friends on Facebook, but when I logged in, forgot to turn my chat off, and these people actually begin to talk to me, I'm thinking:
"Awww shit. I really don't feel like catching up with these people."
It's not like I don't like these people. These are really cool people from my past that I used to hang out with, or had a great working relationship with. It's not like I don't have room for friends, either. After I come home from work, I'm with my family, and that's it. I don't know why, but I don't have a desire to be more sociable. Any such opportunities create a small sense of dread in me, like it's going to be some sort of inconvenience. I have NO IDEA what's caused me to become like this, and I fear that I'm spiraling towards whatever it is, until I eventually become what my father has become now, hating to be in situations that keep me from working, coming home, and doing nothing extraordinary. Even when I call my parents, if my father answers the phone and my mother's busy with something, we struggle to talk to each other painfully, until he can hand the phone off to my mom. I don't resent him for it or anything, because I somehow "get it".
I don't know if this is submission to living a mundane life of working, providing for my family, and wanting to be left alone, some sort of a depression, or lacking of something else, or what. I feel like I need some sort of escape, but I can't think of anything that would help. Thinking about many enjoyable activities don't stimulate any sense of desire, and the rare ones that do, I talk myself out of for one reason or another. For example, I'd really like to take my gun out to the firing range to pop off some rounds, but then I tell myself that rounds are expensive, and not worth wasting frivolously. They should be saved for home defense. I also want to get to Lowe's to buy wood to build a workbench so that I can get my stained glass workshop started out of my garage, but... I don't even really have an excuse for that one. The only roadblock that stops me there is that I can't interfere with my son's nap-time for a selfish trip to Lowe's. I don't feel that I can express this rut to loved ones, because I can reason out all the proper responses myself. I'd be wasting my breath getting answers I already know. I also don't wish to burden them with my shit. Not even my wife. ESPECIALLY my wife. Not sure why I'm so guarded from her, but that's just the way it is. I don't know what else to say about it. Either that, or I'm just bored typing this.
It was very vivid and detailed...