Awkward is my middle name and composure a foreign concept.
I sometimes imagine carrying on sparkling conversations at dinner parties, but in reality I end up chatting with the hostess’s puppy, to the puppy’s great annoyance.
It isn’t that I have nothing to contribute to a conversation, but that the topics I enjoy (zombies, the Star Wars universe, the undeniable cuteness of my grandchildren and their considerable accomplishments) don’t seem to be of great interest to the folks in our social circle. So next time we are invited to a social event I’m trying a new gambit: Listening.
It won’t be easy. I’m a naturally chatty person. I just hope the hostess’s dog has some snappy chatter.
Peace, people.
Praying for Eyebrowz 