Talking to smell your own breath…

I was walking into this store.
And I was wearing some new earrings and my royal blue sneakers, the latter of which alway turn my grey skies, well, blue.

But the very friendly (props to you ma’am because this does not happen much in retail) cashier joked that I “looked angry about spending my money.”

I wasn’t angry because, actually, I didn’t have any money to spend.  Maybe I was unconsciously mad about that.  But I’m kinda over it after the last few months of realizing such will be the nature of my existence until I leave this crap job.  But alas, you wonder, why was this girl in the store after all?  See, I have this Look for Less thing I do on afternoons when the walls of my craft room close in on me or the essays threaten to take over the living room floor like the Blob.  I try on really high heels I know I would break my ankles in were I to wear them in the street.  Or I pretend to put together an outfit for some event that is highly unlikely to ever happen like, a night at the Club.  Tehehe…

So I gave her a smile.  Sure couldn’t give her no commission…

I shoulda told her the truth.  That today was one of my days off from that sorta kinda space I call reality.  In reality, I notice I sometimes smile just to make people comfortable.  (gasps from the peanut gallery).  Talk to them so they won’t think something’s wrong with them or me.  (frowns from the front row).  The people I am most comfortable with, I’ve discovered, don’t make me feel obligated to do either.

My newest, a self described “quiet” boy himself  (with killer abs and triceps so that’s probably all he needs to be) lets me be that.  Which is when I discovered that he really might be working his way to being called, ehem, my friend.

Dr. Anderson, my orthodontist, might find my non-smiling behavior a little suspect.   The therapist would probably concede that it is why I am not permitted to watch the nightly news.

But isn’t smiling when there’s nothing in particular to smile about kinda like talking to smell your own breath?

I don’t know, I was just thinking about that so I thought I’d write it down.  Feel free to unroll your eyes now and proceed with your regularly scheduled randomness.  I am off to continue mine…