Why I’m not interesting

  1. Nothing has happened to me. Some people have rich histories and some incredible adversity they’ve faced or are currently facing, and perhaps overcome. I have none of that. I have a nice, cozy little life, and I am not complaining about that. I’m sure I still have problems, but they’re non-problems compared to some people’s problems, so it really doesn’t register. I would rather have a bland life than a tragic one, so I’m very grateful for this, but that means there’s not much to me. Sorry.
  2. I’ve done nothing. I am passive and ridiculously apathetic. I mean, I volunteer, join clubs, and attend rallies, but that’s just a cover for just how lazy and unproductive I am. I do the bare minimum of social activity that is necessary to qualify me as a participating member of human society. If it were up to me, I’d spend the rest of eternity holed up in my room, surrounded by books, hunched in front of my laptop editing Wikipedia all day. But then I’d be a freeloader, and no one likes that.
  3. My hobbies are boring. I’m nearly immune to the type of activity people usually seem to find “boring”. Organizing the bookmarks on your computer? Hell yes! Colour-coding 1,376 emails by type, sender, and date received with customized tags and stars? Count me in! Any kind of deleting, repetitive skull-numbing task, or proofreading? Why didn’t you invite me earlier? Editing Wikipedia is an exciting and rewarding thing for people like me, but when you are continually met with polite nods and “That’s nice”s when you try to talk to people about it, maybe it’s you, not them. Your boss probably yawned looking at your résumé. As for those who share my interests, well, then I’m not the only one who has those interests. How mundane.
  4. My humour is obscure. It’s not the sort of humour that appeals to the lowest common denominator yet still manages to get their point across, or the high-minded satire that requires a great amount of wit to craft. It’s an amalgam of different styles that can be summed up as an odd, semifunny blend of self-reference, meta-jokes, self-deprecation, deadpan, sarcasm, and non-sequitur. Blech. Some people share it, but not many. I will never reach fame for it, and I am perfectly happy with that.

I’d be lucky to be a side character in a novel, much less the protagonist. That’s what I always found hilarious about most popular video games, actually. They place me in the position of the hero when in reality I belong over there with the NPC sheep farmer. Silly.

To be continued…


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