Little Mrs. Sunshine

I know a couple of people. A couple of people who are just nice. The kind of people who when someone mentions their name the other person says, “Oh, that Larry, he’s so nice.” I don’t think anyone, ever, says that about me, at least not as the first describing adjective. Snarky, sure. Incredibly good looking, obviously. Modest, also obviously. Kind of a bitch, probably. Never, nice not unless told to pick the one that most describes me given a list that consists of: good at sport, nice, runner, tall, able to withstand frigid temperatures, frighteningly strong.

I can’t decide if it’s worth it to try to become nicer or if maybe that will just never be my thing, just like jogging. I think I might have better odds at becoming a jogger.

Often when I’m not nice I feel badly for it, after the fact but that doesn’t a nice person make.

How does a gal be nice when really all she wants to do is tell someone to shut-up and go away? (Yes, complain to me again about how you aren’t changing the thing you wish would change.)

How do I feign interest in someone’s super boring personal story? (Your baby’s poop was that color, huh, fascinating)

How do I volunteer to help someone with something that I’d rather not do? (Yes, please let me help you move)

Maybe I’m thinking about it too hard. Maybe if I just smile and nod people will THINK I’m being nice and they’ll only think that because they can’t hear all the snarky shit inside my head. That counts, right?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s