The Creative Nest

I am actually pretty good at small talk. There, I said it. I can talk to strangers, chat with coworkers, make conversation with the person standing next to me in line at the store, and somehow find something to say to just about anybody. Weather? Sure. Weekend plans? Absolutely. Traffic? I can make that work. I can take whatever random little topic is floating around and turn it into an actual conversation. Small talk doesn't bother me. What does bother me is trying to have small talk with someone who apparently did not receive the memo that small talk is supposed to be a two-person activity. You know the type. You walk up and say, “Hey! How was your weekend?” They say, “Good.” That's it. Just good. No follow-up. No additional information. No conversational breadcrumbs. Nothing. So you try again. “Do anything fun?” “Nope.” Oh. Okay. Now I'm doing all the work. At this point, I have apparently become the host of a talk show that nobody agreed to appear on. I start throwing o...

Do you ever lose something and become completely convinced that it is gone forever? Not misplaced. Not temporarily missing. Gone. You search the obvious places. Then you search the places that make absolutely no sense. You check the same drawer three times because apparently the missing item might magically appear if you look at it with a different attitude. You move things around. You mutter under your breath. You accuse everyone in the household of moving it, even though you know perfectly well they probably had nothing to do with it. Eventually, you give up. “It’s gone,” you declare. And that’s that. You replace it. You buy another one. You move on with your life. Then, three weeks later, you open a drawer you haven't touched since approximately 2019 and there it is. THE MISSING THING. Suddenly, it feels like Christmas morning. Forget presents. Forget twinkling lights. Forget the smell of cookies baking in the oven. I found the damn thing I thought I lost! There should honestly...

 Let’s talk about questions. Specifically, the same question. Over and over. And over. And over. How many times can someone ask you the exact same question before you start getting irritated? I’m genuinely curious because apparently there is a number. I just haven’t figured out what it is yet. The first time someone asks me something, I’m happy to answer. No problem. Ask away. I am a wealth of useless information and reasonably useful information, depending on the subject. The second time? Still fine. Maybe they forgot. Maybe they weren't listening the first time. Maybe their brain was busy thinking about something else. It happens. The third time, I might start wondering if we are having a communication issue. By the fourth time, I’m thinking, “We have discussed this.” By the fifth time, my answer may become slightly more concise. By the sixth time? Well… How attached are you to getting an answer that doesn't involve me screaming?   There is something about being asked the s...