Bees bees bees bees bees bees bees bees. I have spent most of the day writing or getting ready to write or taking a break from writing about bees.
Tonight I tried to be social for a change and failed as usual. I am putting the blame squarely on this crummy town (for the sake of preserving the delicate bit of self-esteem I've shored up in the last few years). People here don't seem interested in making new friends. This has nothing to do with writing, just more bitching about needing to get out of here.
I also spent a bit of time listening to two academics (I think they might remember it as "us" talking). While their exclusionary style of conversation was pretty annoying, I was envious of their passion. If I were in an academic setting, I suppose I could go chat up some biology grad students about bees, or talk research with a scientific writing major.
Honestly, I'd probably have just as much trouble at cocktail parties anywhere. Firstly, I'm a watcher, not a performer. And B, I require warming up and warming up to. To be fair, I gave up on this town at some point over the summer. I am no longer invested in the process of reaching out, of making connections. I have one foot out the door.
Where was I? Oh right, bees, bees, bees, bees, bees, bees, bees, bees.
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