Too Awkward to Function

As I get older, I find myself feeling more confident and sure of myself. Then, all of these illusions that I have my shit come crashing down because anxiety is an asshole that makes it difficult for me to walk down the street like a functioning adult.

Yesterday, I walked downtown to visit a friend while she was bartending like I do most Mondays. As I started to cross a street, I yawned. I noticed a car waiting for me to finish crossing the street so he could turn and the driver was staring at me. Without thinking, I cut myself off in mid-yawn because God forbid anyone see that I’m a tired human. This reaction apparently pissed off my body because in retaliation, I couldn’t stop yawning for another two blocks.

My body to me.

I stopped inside a convenience store to buy my friend a drink and paid for it at the counter. Instead of just carrying the drink, I decided I needed to put it in my backpack. I mean, why carry a backpack if I’m not going to use it? But my backpack isn’t a regular backpack, it’s a “fashion backpack” from Target which means it’s overly complicated and requires me to close a drawstring top, close a latch, and connect two magnetized snaps in order for it to properly close. Still reeling from my inability to cross and street and yawn, my brain shut down and I could not for the life of me get the magnets to work. Which is particularly pathetic because the fact that they’re magnetized means 95% of the work is done for me, I just have to get the snaps in the general area of each other.

This guy gets it.

Despite the fact that there was no one else in the store, I panicked, which only made it harder to close my bag. Finally, I got it closed enough (just the drawstring and latch, no magnets) and left the store.

Left . . . ran away . . . what’s the difference?

About half a block later, I thought I saw a friend across the street. I started waving . . . only to realize that this guy was a complete stranger and I was waving like a GD idiot. He didn’t notice me, but the ten other people on the street did so I just walked away as quickly as I could and tried not to run into anything.

“No one saw that . . . it’s cool . . .”

I really need a handler when I leave my house.