unusual in an attractive and interesting way
A few years ago, a co-worker called me quirky and I spent three days obsessing about it. I took it to mean that she thought I was weird. And that bugged me since this was work and I’m a serious professional and very good at my job. (Plus, it kinda hurt my feelings.)
Okay — so, I’m a serious professional, that’s all settled now — but I’m also a quirky nutcase.
It took a while but I’m fine with this.
It’s okay, honest. I can take it.
No hurt feelings. I am a rock.
Until it hit me again today that I’m just not like all the other kids.
I talk to myself in my office. (Is this really that odd? Other people don’t talk to themselves about what they’re doing as they’re doing it?)
I don’t think about it or notice it when I’m in the midst of it but I do realize that I’m doing it if it’s pointed out to me.
I guess I can’t believe it’s loud enough for other people to hear … it always seems like it’s more in my head than anything else.
But my internal monologue is actually external.
It’s too late now. I could close my door from now on but they will still know what’s going on in there. Plus, I like to keep the door open for speedy escapes.
At least I’m not arguing with myself. I save that for my journey home.