I consider myself to be an easygoing person but of course, because of my doubtfulness, I am not certain I’m viewed as this person in some people’s eyes. In the past, I’ve had people give me conflicted ideas – people tell me I’m mean, people tell me I’m too nice and need to be meaner – you can see why I’d be confused.
Anyway, I am typically easygoing. You can talk about pretty much anything with me, just as long as it’s not rapid-fire questions and it’s not politics because I can only say one thing about this topic, it’s “no comment.” I don’t and will never discuss politics with anyone because politics and I are swore enemies for life. Sure I can discuss how government works in a general sense, like from a history perspective, but beyond that, “no comment.”
On the hand, try me with a rapid-fire question routine and you will see an ugly side of me because you see, I’m an easygoing person up to a point.
Shortly after I immigrated to the U.S, my mom became my tutor but it wasn’t long before she acquired a few more students and became half-tutor, half-babysitter. Her youngest student was a 7-year-old who frequently needed a ride home as his mother often worked late and couldn’t pick him up.
I remember there was this one time when I accompanied my mom to escort 7-year-old Andy home, oh my gosh, all the way, from the moment he left our apartment to the moment he got out of the car, he shot question after question at me. Why this? Why that?
At first, I was pretty open. I answered his questions to the best of my abilities but after 15 minutes, I just about had it. Thank goodness he got out of the car 5 minutes later. “Why is he asking so many questions?” I asked my mom after.
“He’s 7,” Mom answered. “That’s what 7-year-olds do, they ask questions. They are curious.”
Okay, I definitely don’t recall I was that way when I was 7 or maybe because I was too scared to ask questions.
Theme: Of all the things I am
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