Prepare not to be astounded.

The other night I asked someone if I was boring, and I was told "You astound me every day". This was the nicest compliment I'd received for some time. In fact, I can't remember being told (in earnest) that I'm beautiful or anything else for so long that this was a huge compliment. I, astounding.

Tonight I asked if he really meant what he said or if he was just joking when he said it, and he responded that he didn't even remember the conversation. My stomach fell. I felt sick.

The truth is, I am not astounding. I may be eccentric about some stuff, or maybe interesting, but nothing I do is really amazing or astounding. Maybe this is why it was such a huge compliment; it was like being told, "You are more beautiful than Cindy Crawford." It was so unbelievable that someone would think that of me that it resounded and kept bouncing around my mind, playing over and over again until I tried my hardest to cling to it as one good thing about myself.

So, from now on, the only person I am trying to astound is me. I am not easily astounded by myself or anything I do. I'm highly critical of my looks, my abilities, my potential for success. Maybe this is the impetus I needed to get off my keister and start astounding myself. If I can truly manage to fund my library degree, and to ace all my classes, and to forge a career that interests me while making a living for my family and paying enough attention to my daughter and making her life better and paying off my debts, now THAT will truly be astounding.