Eyes on target

I don’t know why, but I’ve noticed lately that I increasingly despise being watched. Whether it’s walking down the street, eating lunch, reading a book, whatever, I don’t want to be seen.

When I’m at home it’s fine. It’s just me, my husband, and the cat. But, for instance, in the break room at work? I get creeped out when someone leaves the door open and patients can see in from the front desk. That is not OK to me.

I’ve gotten better about walking, but I have to have a purpose to the walk. I can’t just take a walk for the sake of walking; I have to be going somewhere specific to do something specific. The only exception is playing Pokémon Go with my husband, but that’s a bit different. I guess I technically AM going somewhere specific (Pokestops) to do something specific (catch ’em all).

I brought a book to work today to read on my break since I knew I wouldn’t have the car and I’d be stuck in the break room for my entire lunch. But now I can’t make myself read. Why? Because the thought of people seeing me reading and then asking me about the book is a little unnerving to me. Why? I have no clue. I just am uncomfortable with the thought of having to explain the plot to person after person.

I guess I’m just weird. For being the narcissist that I am, one would think I’d enjoy the attention.

I guess I want attention on my terms. Read my tweets. Like my selfies. Buy my book. Look at me from afar, from the other side of the computer/phone/tablet screen, where I have more control over what you see and how I’m seen.

Yeah. That’s the ticket.

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