When I am interested in something I tend to be fully invested. Completely and thoroughly. I submerse myself in this thing and overwhelm my senses until there is nothing left. No room for anything but my interest.
Some might call it OCD.
A more generous soul would call it passion.
I call it unstoppable.
It isn’t something I feel I can control. It is just how I am. I don’t choose to be drowning in my interests, I just get enraptured by things, held fast in their thrall.
I rather like it, to tell the truth.
My sister once told me she hated visiting a bookstore with me, because she can’t ever get me to leave. I smiled at it then, finding it to be truer than true. Books are a long passion of mine. And one whose thrall has yet to wear off.
Some things I become obsessed by pass as soon as I feel I have conquered them. Or learned at least what my soul was wanting to know. Others are like a habit I cannot shake.
Books. Reading. Quotations. Christian Kane.
I can sit for hours on end reading website after website of quotes. On every subject imaginable. I never get bored of this.
I just was.
I was assigned a project to promote Women’s History Month. I am heading up the project, which is taking on the form of an ad campaign. I will be plastering the school with quotations of famous women and then linking the quotes to biographies of these women.
It is fascinating work. I’m completely into it.
While digging through gems such as “A lot of people don’t say what they want. That’s why they don’t get what they want.” (Madonna) I received a new email to my personal account. I keep this open all day and it lets me know when I have a new email. As this is where I get my “fun” emails, I slipped over to check it out.
It was from Elena and it was very fun.
I replied as needed and she wrote back that I seemed pissed.
I wasn’t. Au contraire.
I was sitting at work, getting paid to look up quotes, and listening to Christian Kane on my iPod. Practically perfection in my book.
I inquired as to why she thought I was pissy and she said it was the shortness of my answers.
Someone else recently commented that they thought some thing was wrong with me because of the brief answer I gave. I think it may have been Mindy. At any rate, both of those comments made me laugh. If you have EVER read my blog, you’ll know I am not exactly known for my brevity.
One would be more likely to call me locquacious. Verbose. Effusive. Wordy.
But it is not the first time that I’ve been called out for seeming angry when I was not. I have decided that the problem comes from a tiny moment.
Have you ever been completely engrossed in a book? Or a movie or a play or something? And someone grabs your attention and you are suddenly yanked back into the present reality? But, for a split second, those two worlds are tied together, inextricably linked in your mind so that, just for a fleeting moment, you can’t tell the two worlds apart?
It is like straddling the threshold of imagination and reality.
It is a tricky place to be.
Elena called me back, but I didn’t fully arrive before responding and my response came out without my usual flavor. It happens. Most often when I am reading. (Ask my siblings, they’ll tell you that growing up I could be quite cranky when you interrupted my reading)–I’m more in control of my self these days, but there is sometimes that moment when I’m standing on the threshold and I am not fully myself.
I snap back fairly quickly after that, but sometimes you’ll have to forgive me. I was actually in another world.