Thinkin'

A conversaton with my dad this morning got me thinking. At one point, he said the he had never known me to be lazy. Well, maybe he didn't say "never", I forget. Anyway, I started comparing the me that I am in my head and the me that I am in other people's heads. They are two very different things, you know.

Lazy?
In my head I am a particularly lazy person. I spend way too much time watching television, reading trash, and wandering around the internet. I put off doing things until it is absolutely necessary. I was consistently the last one of our 4th grade team to finish my report cards. I let my grading pile up until the kids start asking "what did I get on that test?". I eat cheese sandwiches for a week so that I don't have to wash the pots and pans. I am lazy beyond belief.

But if you ask my family, my friends, or my co-workers, they will probably tell you that I am an obsessivly hard worker. Because they always see me doing things. After school, it looks like I am hard at work in my classroom, when in fact, I am making up some silly little worksheet or rearranging my filing again. My sister and mother think that I keep a sparkling house, because I am always helping then straighten up their houses. They don't realize that I spend the 24 hours before they come to visit frantically washing and dusting and vacuuming. I give off the impression of activity and organization only because I am so inefficient in what I do!

Intelligence?
My teachers, in both high school and college, thought that I was a smart kid. I managed to get decent grades without seeming like I was working too hard (again, I am lazy!). But in my head, I know that I was just lucky. I happen to be good at guessing the right answers on tests. I was able to regurgitate the information that was poured down my throat in a way that was pleasing to teachers (read: they way they wanted me to). My teachers weren't there when I was unable to tell a friend about a book without practically reciting it. They didn't know how hard it was for me to answer that dreaded questions "So, what happened in school today?" If they only knew how many times I said 300 when I meant 3000, or had to look up a date/name/state capital that I should have know, or quickly counted on my fingers to make sure I was multiplying 6 times 7 correctly. They don't know, though. I work hard to keep up this particular front.

Thoughtful?
My friend, Debbie, is always telling me I am too nice. Since she tells me this after I offer to give up my lunch for a week to do someone else's duty or commit to staying in my classroom for an extra 15 minutes every afternoon because this one family can't seem to pick up their kid on time, she usually has a point. She doesn't know that I am doing it as penance for how selfish I feel most of the time. After all, I have to do something to make up for never remembering to send birthday cards or thank you notes. I have to counteract the guilt I feel for monopolizing the conversation at lunch and being unable to remember the name of that really nice lady I met the other day. I can't just ignore the fact that I have to be told hundreds of times to call my grandma before I do it, even though I want to. I seem like a thoughtful person to some because I am trying to make up for being so thoughtless to others.

I could go on. I could explain how I am not really as peaceful as I seem, what with the anger that rages just below the surface at times. I could give all the reasons why I am less than trustworthy, totally lacking in creativity, and not really all that clever. I don't worry about it too much though. I know enough about people to know that most everyone is hiding the same dirty secrets. So, I just go on the best I can and hope that when I make a mistake, everyone understands, because they are putting up the same facades.