Every time I give my cell phone number, I start to say the store number. It's awful. Because there's nothing worse than reneging on numbers! I feel so awful rattling off a slew of numbers when asked, only to go, "Oh! Wait! Sorry, wrong number." Scratch those ten numbers, replace with these ten numbers. I don't know. It seems like a lot to ask.
You know what it is? I start with the area code. If I didn't start with the area code I wouldn't go on autopilot and things would be fine.
Well, not fine. Much of my job at the store involves accessing records and making phone calls. I type the service tag number into the computer to pull up the phone number. I punch the phone number into the telephone. And somewhere along the way I always mix up numbers. I whisper the numbers to myself, and it's funny that my brain tells my fingers to hit the right numbers even when my ears hear my voice whispering the wrong ones. What does that say about my brain, my inability to translate number sequences? My inability to give my own phone number?!
I worry sometimes. That I am inconsolably airheaded. Which makes me even more nervous when my friends complain about all the stupid people at college. How long until they find out that I am one of those people?! I have such empathy for these so-called stupid people who own my friends' annoyances. I have their back. Solidarity.
So one of the girls I work with invited me to a blacklight party. Which, not gonna lie, sounds AWESOME. I can't go, due to previous commitments, but it did make me wonder. Would it hurt my witness if I went to a party? On the one hand, I don't want to be stuck up, holier than thou; I want to befriend these people. On the other hand, I'm supposed to be different, supposed to protect myself; I am set apart. Part of me feels insecure about going to a party [/HOMESCHOOLER], another part of me feels a conviction to step outside my comfort zone.
So oh-many-counselors-producing-wisdom, what do you think?