Tag Archives: social anxiety

It’s Like I Always Say– Nothing Good Happens After 9pm

Last night….

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Fair. And true.

But this is exactly the kind of hazardous situation I find myself in when I linger in society past sundown– two young people were having a perfectly lovely first date and I interrupted it, arms flailing, screaming, “Little Michael?!?! Is that YOU?!?!?”

Zero chance he got laid after that.

I’m never leaving the couch again.

Sorry, Little Michael.

(For interrupting your date. And for calling you “Little Michael.” Last night and in this post. Also, sorry about this post).

Social Anxiety Thought Spiral

That moment when you get in the elevator and press “Lobby,” but there’s a man coming down the hall pushing a cart and yelling “Hold the elevator please!” so you quickly press the “Door Open” button, and hold it down firmly.

Except that the “Door Open” button you’re pushing is actually the “Door Close” button, and you hit it by accident because you are tired and have A.D.D. and are also a little dumb, but mostly because the “Door Close” button looks EXACTLY FUCKING LIKE the “Door Open” button, and really this is the fault of elevator-makers everywhere.

So the door closes on the man’s cart (because again, you are furiously pushing the “Door Close” button). And he watches you as you continue to push the “Door Close” button, and the door continues to close on his cart.

Then he miraculously makes it inside the elevator, despite your (unintentional, but nonetheless vicious and repeated) attempts to sabotage him.

And it is at THIS point, as you are riding down in silence and staring at that uncooperative button, that you realize your error. And you realize that he knows exactly which button you were pushing. And that he must assume you were purposely trying to close the door on him, because no one is dumb enough to push that hard and that repeatedly on the wrong button.

And he’s staring at you and shaking his head.

And he’s black.

And you want to scream out, “It was an accident! I’m not racist! I swear! I am happy to share this elevator with you, sir! I voted for Obama! I have black friends! I FUCKING LOVE OPRAH!!!”

But you’re pretty sure that’ll make it worse.

So you just hang your head down and accept that you’re a racist now.

Just a big, dumb, ignorant racist who won’t let innocent minorities through the door.

You’re basically the exact opposite of what this country stands for.

You’re disgusting.

You should run for president!!!!!!!!! IMG_1451

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New Rules for Social Survival in my 30s

I’m too old and tired for new friends. If I don’t know you, and I have to put even a modicum of effort into hitting it off with you, it’s simply not going to work.

So the new rule is this: if you’re a new person, you have 2 chances with my sense of humor. If you don’t get my sarcasm/I have to explain that I’m kidding more than twice, you’re out. I’m sorry. I’m just too exhausted.

But if I met you at any point before college graduation, you can still be one of those people who never gets it or knows when I’m fucking with you, and I’ll still love you, because, quite simply, you have put in your time. And you’re probably exhausted too.

So we’re good, Mom.

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They Noticed

So yesterday this happened and I was just kind of hoping the students forgot about it (as I like to think kids do when something extremely uncomfortable occurs). I convinced myself that the moment was much more awkward and memorable for me than it was for them, and that they probably didn’t even notice.

Yeah, well. They did.

Today we started writing an end-of-year school newspaper. Here’s what one kid is contributing to the Comics section (work still in progress). I’ve translated the kid’s writing in pink, in case you can’t read it.

comic

So I think the moral here is, even 10-year-olds notice when you act like an awkward buffoon.

This is sure to do wonders for my social anxiety.

Thank You, Administration 

I had a meeting with administration and the guardian of one of my students (mom couldn’t make it, so an older brother was coming in her place). I enter the main office for the meeting.

Administration: “Jon’s brother is outside in the hall. You can get him and tell him to come in.”

Me: “That guy sitting out there? That’s not the brother I met before.”

Administration: “Oh, well it must be a different brother. But it’s definitely one of Jon’s brothers.”

Me (trusting they know something I don’t): “Oh, ok.”

(walk out to hall, extend my hand to young man waiting in chair)

Me: “Hi! I’m Emily, Jon’s teacher. It’s nice to meet you.”

Nope. Not Jon’s brother.

Just a completely unrelated black guy.