There was a conversation going on in the coffeehouse this morning about Mukluks — winter boots. I felt compelled to join in because it afforded me an opportunity to let them know my history with the boots and the company. It was a compulsion but a bit weird since I was aware of what I was thinking as it was happening, i.e., “I want to impress them, should I go over to their table, no, I don’t need to do that, yeah, I guess I will.”
And when the conversation was over, I returned to my table with a bit of a hollow feeling, not quite ashamed but close. I guess I’m still insecure. Shit. I keep thinking I’m all grown up and then little stuff like this happens to remind me that I’m not. I should have stopped myself and asked “What’s happening here? What mistaken idea is operating?” Oh well, I guess I can be grateful that I catch it sometimes. Makes me wonder, though, how often it happens that I don’t catch it.