Conversation

Yesterday I spent the morning working our church's annual Breakfast with Santa. As, right after I grumped about how I am never tapped to volunteer despite numerous attempts, the Breakfast with Santa chair decided to step down and up shot my hand. And apparently, no one wants this particular job as it got advertised for weeks before I finally got the green light to take it over next year. So I shadowed the current chair for most of the morning learning where everything lived, who needs to do what, how many boxes of mini-donuts get ordered, etc, etc.

The outgoing chair is as nice as can be, and introduced me to everyone and their brother. I think I met more people yesterday than I have during the four years we have been coming to church. And I spent the whole morning on the verge of a panic attack, trying to remember names, trying to say nice and witty things, trying to show the "real me."

And I failed miserably. I never know what to say, and I feel like everything that does come out of my mouth is forced and not terribly relevant. I am never quite sure where to break into a conversation, so I generally just stand there nodding and trying to look engaged. I am sure the instant I left yesterday there was a gaggle of women wondering whether it would have been better to take on the breakfast themselves after all.

I don't know why I am so horrifically awkward in social situations. Every time I say that to M, he looks at me like I have two heads, as at home I chatter away with abandon. There are a few close friends who know the chatty me, and when I was working I could chat around the coffee pot fairly easily, but out in the general world? Not so much.

I so want the chatty, friendly me to come out in person. But it never really does. I agonize over every word that comes out of my mouth, worry that people won't like me, and then finally abandon ship and flee as soon as an opportunity presents itself. And I hate that about myself.

Why can't the whole world converse via email? I am a great emailer.