Picking out the pieces

In one way, I wish for the days I didn't realize who I am - though believe me, that's only like 1% of the time. On those days, I just thought I was odd. Now I understand what makes that oddness a part of me.

Today it started with something as simple as a phone. I hate phones. Despise them. Always have. I've never seen the value of staying on the device and talking about nothing for hours at a time. If I have to make a call, I want it short. I want it to the point. And I want it over in less than 5 minutes.

I stopped counting how many times people - both men and women - told me that was odd. About how 'unfemale-like' it was.

So today as I stood with a TracFone in hand with a disgruntled expression on my face, I realized that part of my dislike for the damned device must land in either my male or agendered parts. Which is a strange thing to think at first.

But then? It's kind of cool. It's like another little nugget I can put into the "This is what I do" pile in my head to where it makes sense.

Like why I hate dresses. How I get so ultra competitive on dates. And why I think small talk is the true bane of our existence.

And why I would be happy if people would stop trying to talk to me on long car rides. Like seriously? Stop talking. Leave me to my mental peace where I am drawing diagrams, making up storylines, and many times thinking of nothing at all.

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