I’m a disaster human. Always have been. Likely always will be. More specifically I’m a disaster bisexual. But even when I’m not doing anything romantic, sexual, or even social, I remain a disaster.
And it manifests in so many tiny ways. Always has. Probably always will.
For example, my entire life I’ve been criticized for the way I use very simple objects. The greatest hits are chairs and doors.
How can one misuse a chair? You might be asking yourself this. It’s quite simple. You sit down too fast. Or at least that’s what I’m told — because as we’ve established, I’m a disaster. I lack the proper instincts of people who actually belong in civilization. Apparently a person is supposed to lower themselves down gently so as to not stress out the chair or couch. Not plop down quickly.
Guess which I do? Yup. I have a tendency to just plop down into chairs. The only way I can avoid doing this is to think consciously about it.
I also apparently do not use doors properly. I don’t think I’m slamming them when I do. But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve turned around after completing something I perceive as a perfunctory door-closing to be asked why I slammed the door. Am I angry? Do I need to talk? Do I want to break everything in our home?
Yes, really.
Again, like the sitting thing, if I really focus on gingerly closing doors, I do an ace job. But if I go on auto-pilot — watch out!
And these are the most basic things that I do improperly over and over again that non-disaster humans notice instantly and don’t do. There are countless others that are slightly more ambiguous or complex that I also predictably err on — over and over and over again.
I do a few things well but most things poorly. Especially the basics. Stuff other people take for granted.
Yes, I’m a disaster human, but I’m doing my best.