I'm Boring

Yes, I am boring. Okay, I’m not ALWAYS boring, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m boring more often than not. It took me 56 years to admit this to myself.

I am jealous of people I know who are the life of the party, the extroverts who seem to have it all. The people who always capture other people’s attention. They have the right story for the right time. They are comedic and vivacious. They have people flocking around them, hanging on their every word. When they throw a party, it is well attended. So are their childrens’ birthday parties. My daughters? Not so much. They were lucky to have two or three close friends show up. Sorry for the curse, girls.

Life-of-the-party people are the cheerleaders, the politicians, the trend-setters, and the go-getters. They are everything I am not.

Why not me? Oh sure, I have a few entertaining stories, which I’ve probably told too many times. I’m great at writing fiction. My characters can also be everything I’m not. Maybe I live vicariously through them. I love to tell stories to kids at school, but why is it that I clam up amongst groups of colleagues and peers? Why am I such a wallflower?

I have tried so hard not to be introverted, but it IS who I AM.

I have decided that there’s nothing wrong with being the real me. This world needs listeners as much as it needs the people gregariously telling the tales. Comedians and comediennes need people to hear their material. Laughter is one form of payment to them which all can afford to give freely.

To me, it looks exhausting to be a life-of-the-party person. A constant smile would be tough on the cheeks. Acting as if on stage every waking moment would take energy I don’t care to expend. To quote William Shakespeare from As You Like It, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.” Except me. Well, me and lots of other introverts.

So, I go about my boring life. What exactly do I do? Other than eat, sleep, and use the bathroom, which none of us can avoid, I read and write, of course. A writer writes, and if you’re on Vocal, you’d better be reading too! Well, the fact that you’ve read this much of this piece is a testament to your awesomeness as a reader! I play a game or two (shoutout to Wordscapes!) I watch some television.

What do I do when I’m less boring? I spend time with my husband, daughters, and grandson. I play the flute in the community band (we’re awesome for a small-town volunteer group!)

The neighborhood I just moved into three weeks ago has an outdoor happy hour every Friday. I actually went once so far. Another time, it was raining, so technically, I only missed one. Attending was out of my comfort zone, but remember when I said I’ve tried not to be an introvert? Perhaps I’m not done fighting. Maybe I’m a closet extrovert, if such a thing exists. Perhaps “wannabe extrovert” is a better description. I don’t exactly want the limelight, but I don’t want to be ignored or totally alone either.

So, I skirt the edges of introvertism and extrovertism, hoping for a nod from the extrovertian gods. Will they allow me the ability to get people to hang on my words? Will I ever be a life-of-the-party person?

I already know the answer is a firm, kick-in-the-pants “no!”

If someone made a movie out of my life, it would be no Truman Show. It would be Once Upon a Snooze... See Me Snore... 50 Shades of Yawn.

So, I will go about my mundane life, continuing to be average income, average looks, average intellect, and, unfortunately, boring.

But would you like to come to my party Saturday?