Nov 09 2010
Proving I Don’t Suck
When I was in college I didn’t buy my cigarettes at the corner deli. I regularly went to the corner deli for toilet paper, beer, pints of Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream, and stale fried rice at 3 in the morning; but not cigarettes. Why was this? Because I couldn’t stand the thought of the sweet looking man who at the counter and his awkward 13-year old mustached son knowing I smoked. I smoked two packs a day and New York is very cold in the winter, but still I made the trek to the “other deli” the one that smelled like onions and was manned by a very unfriendly woman who wouldn’t make eye contact. I just couldn’t deal with the idea of the man and his son, at home, saying things like “she looked so sweet” or “who knew” (probably not in English, but you get the idea).
I don’t smoke anymore, but I am still consistently shocked by the lengths I go to just to prove to strangers, (who could probably care less), that I have a strong moral character and don’t suck. At the gym, I often force myself to watch CNN. The gym TVs have cable and there is a full range of Kardashian and Jersey Shore-related TV to tempt me, but I can’t stand the thought that other gyms goers would know I watch that stuff.
“Look at her,” they would think haughtily while they watch KPBS, “rotting her mind with reality TV!”
A similar thing occurs at the doctor’s office, where although I would love to read about the latest Teen Mom crisis in US Weekly, I read National Geographic.
“Look at her!” I imagine the doctor saying to the nurses, “a young woman reading National Geographic! What uncommon class!”
The list goes on and on. I don’t buy beer at the pharmacy when I pick up my (very routine) prescription (because the pharmacist would judge), I have a hard time reading the junk chick-lit novels I want on planes (because people would assume that’s what I always read), I force myself to order the more adventurous dish over the typical one (because I’m that kind of girl). I strive to impress people who probably don’t even give me a second glance. And what does it get me? An hour of bored elliptical machine, ignorance about the lives of teen moms, and no beer! Not to mention walks through the snow and rain….
Anyway, my New Year’s Resolution this year (yes, it is only November, I’m a planner, I plan a few months ahead) is to stop over-thinking. Not just this, but work, friends, and everything. I’m going to relax and go with it. And if the guy next to me on the plan thinks I am ditz because I have the latest Twightlight novel, I guess that’s just how it goes.
