Mrs. Roboto
I've crossed another milestone: finishing coursework forever! I am very happy to say that I am done taking graduate classes. This isn't what that's about, however. It's about a perpetual problem that I have when I cross milestones. I think they are all anti-climatic. And this has led to another problem...
My husband thinks I'm a robot. Seriously. He's started calling me "robot wife" and making dumb robot movements when he asks me how I feel and my response is "fine." He asked me the other day how it felt to be done with 19 years of classroom education and I said "pretty good" and he started doing the robot thing.
Those of you who know me well know that I tend to be somewhat subdued. I prefer Charles's terminology of me as serene. Insert funny story here: Last year, after I presented my MA thesis to the faculty and grad students, my friend Rebecca said, "Where you nervous up there?" And I said, "Are you kidding? I was terrified!" To which she replied, "Really? Because you seemed sort of sedated." I said, "Ok . That is not a compliment. I know you were trying to imply that I was calm and collected, but sedated?!?!?!"
Anyway, I'm starting to think that life's not anti-climatic, but that I'm just so mellow that I don't engage in the fullness of everything exciting and happy and wonderful. Or for that matter, terrible, scary, sorrowful. What can I say? I'm just an even-tempered gal. I think I get it from my dad.
I guess the whole point of this is to say: I'm starting to wonder if I'm a robot.
6 comments:
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo...domo
Most definately you got the anti-climatic gene from me. I am the same way. For instance, I could make the greatest accomplishment in my life, and a few seconds after it is accomplished my attitude is "next." But I do enjoy the process, just nothing to get excited about.
Oh well. Fame is fleeting.
Here's the lyrics to Charm is Deceitful by Kim Hill...
Charm is deceitful
Beauty is vain
But a woman who fears the Lord shall be praised
A woman who fears the Lord
In a world where we see with our eyes
I pray for eyes that see the heart
'Cause flesh is unfaithful
And is of no gain
But a woman who fears the Lord shall be praised
A woman who fears the Lord
And I know that when He sees me
It won't be beauty that He longs to hold
It'll be the love that He finds inside my heart
'Cause charm is deceitful
Beauty is vain
But a woman who fears the Lord shall be praised
A woman who fears
Yes a woman who fears
A woman who fears the Lord
better subdued, sedated and mellow than dysfunctionally shy, eh?
If you want my opinion, I think you act "subdued" because you don't have feelings.
This is why we made terrible roommates - I'm a a drama queen and your Mrs. Roboto. We also make excellent friends because we are endlessly entertained by each other's eccentricities.
It's also possible that you don't have a soul.
okay, so it appears that there is somewhat of a consensus.
funny thing, E - when I was typing this post, I was thinking about our living incompatibility! hehehe. I think we'd do better now that we are older, wiser, and more tolerant. :o)
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