I don’t need to be told what my flaws are; I know that I have a lazy eye, a pasty complexion and that I am a rather disorganised person. I know that another flaw I have is one most have; getting angry when people mention my flaws.
So, to think when some presumptuous arse off my course first asked me what books I was reading, and then got it in his head to help organise me, how I flipped out.
He appeared at my door an hour after mocking me for not reading, buffoon grin on face and told me in his haughty way he was going to guide me. Gosh, I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck.
And then it began, he sat down across from me in my living room and asked about my boyfriend’s ‘impressive’ PC sitting on a table – a classic move to try and get me comfortable with him – before asking what I wanted to do with my future – and it’s okay to say you haven’t a clue (Jesus wept!). He then walked up to my room and started analysing my folders, my notes, how little books I possessed on my shelves.
It got worse, I think he got it into his head that he was now my life coach and was instructing me to do hobbies, to do sports – I’ve read enough quack articles to know what I should and shouldn’t be doing.
He left soon after that and I thought that would be the last of it.
Wait three days and he comes over, that superior grin on his face again and what does he do? In front of my friends, he hands over some self-help organisation guide.
I get it, he’s trying to help and he can walk away smug because he thinks he’s helped someone. But I don’t need help, I’m fine and happy the way I am. I’m happy that I can look right and centre at the same time, I love that I can’t tan, not even on the hottest day. And I love that I get myself constantly in a pickle.
So next time, please mind your own.