At 42, I still feel like a square peg. Come on, you remember the show about Carrie before Sex in the City. I’m no Carrie. Actually, I’m more an Amanda because as I have been told by one or more dates that I am too analytical. I disagree. If I was truly analytical, I would have looked up the correct use of “too” in that last sentence. Maybe that’s the wrong use of analytical. Maybe I’m just plain sloppy. What were we talking about? Oh, right, I’m a square peg. I had nachos earlier though, and I feel more round than anything right now.
I was feeling square peg-ish because I read other blogs and had problems relating. I kind of wondered that maybe I’m just a bit bitchy, but then I realized I enjoyed reading the stories of others. No, wait I didn’t enjoy reading: I loved reading about the good, the bad and finding hope – sometimes not find hope, but just being. We all have different events, but share the same feelings of grief, loss and hope, from different victories and milestones.
Maybe what I failed to realize before I started writing this was that these three paragraphs may have taken up five minutes, you, the reader will never get back. Then, I thought if it took a person five minutes to read this, my syntax and grammar must be horrible, but my content is just interesting enough to keep you reading. And that like me, maybe you feel like a square peg too. Maybe we are all square pegs who are not so unique and alone, but because we feel like it, we remain isolated.
I think I just confused myself. What were we talking about? Oh, right: Sex in the City.