“You’re smarter than you look… well, sort of.”

The good thing about Roswell is the free Mexican dinners we all get from Eduardo every night.  Tonight is tacos. Me gusta tacos. Me gusta tacos mucho.

Work is weird in the sense that everyone is still trying to figure me out. Guys try to do the bro-ah-bro teasing, seeking a connection in a way by which I’ve never fully learned to react. Then, sometimes dudes say things in passing that I take personally. Taking nonsense personally seems to be an INFP trait (not that I’m confining myself to a 16-personality-types-only definition), and it has happened all my life. The good thing is I’m in a phase that I don’t take shite from anybody when it’s unjustified. And what’s fascinating is, people usually come back begging for your respect again, without having to say a word. Like they feel your negative mental waves or something… justified, of course. That’s the important part.

Then sometimes you learn that what they meant is not at all how it was intended to be received.

Meanwhile, the TV is on next to me, and the national news reports:

“Amazing breaking news we will report on what is really happening today with spirituality…” as images of multi-cultural gatherings take place, including yoga classes.

The news is the first place I want to find out about this stuff, so I gotta go.