Curiosity

So, I've been thinking about my mood some more after having written about it last week.

Vern said to me the other night, that it must be exhausting trying to figure stuff out all the time. Like why I feel a certain way. Why things happen. What I need to learn from any given situation. He said that in itself sounds exhausting.

And he's right.

Yet I continue with my thinking. My examining things to the nth degree.

It's just being myself, I guess. Because I am a curious person and being curious is just what I do. Being curious generally doesn't bother me, it just makes me feel a little weird and annoying sometimes.

Because I am the type of person who sees a picture somebody posts on facebook and asks, "What is that envelope on your counter?" Or, if somebody says they saw a cow dressed as Liza Minnelli walking down the street in Stillwater, I'll ask, "What were you doing in Stillwater?"

I am curious, and, for whatever reason, I like to know all the pieces that make up the greater whole. Of anything in life, really.

I've noticed that other people, most people, are not this way. If they come to my house, they do not ask questions about what is on my fridge. When they're playing poker, they don't ask a series of dumb questions, starting with, "Did you ever used to watch Blossom?"

I am a strange bird. I acknowledge that.

And it is exhausting.

And, no, I haven't figured out any of the answers to the questions I was pondering last week.