I have a love/hate relationship with meeting new people.
I LOVE to meet new people because I genuinely love relationships. The idea of meeting someone, hearing their story, contributing to their life and allowing them to do the same into mine is absolutely fascinating to me.
On the flip side, I HATE to meet new people because of the awkward “getting to know you” small talk that must ensue. If I’m honest, it’s not so much me that hates it, but the giant chip on my shoulder that cringes when I hear the question, “So, what do YOU do?”
When asked, I usually point to someone else in the room with a better sounding job and play conversation Hot Potato while I smile and nod and look frantically for available exits. Then when it’s painfully obvious that I’ve left my smoke bomb in the car, have no emergencies to attend to and it’s too late to fake a seizure or pretend I’m choking on my mini sandwich, my palms begin to sweat. I look at their expectant eyes and watering mouth as they wait for some juicy tidbit to roll off my tongue and into their ears. The morsel they’re hungry for would make me sound terribly glamorous or even remotely useful, however, more times than not, they’ll leave me feeling a bit popcorn hungry.
For those that may not know, I’ll explain what ‘popcorn hungry’ is.
It’s when you’re REALLY hungry and decide to forego something fattening and snack on something healthy, like popcorn. So you get the bag out making sure that it is in fact facing the ‘right side up’ in the microwave and then as the POPs start to go off, your stomach begins to growl and the anticipation rises. Then the smell of deliciousness hits you in the face as you open the gateway of happiness and begin to shovel handfuls of air-popped goodness into your mouth. After finishing the bag, picking the stray pieces off your shirt and lap, you rummage around on the bottom of the bag for half-hearted kernels when it hits you. You just topped off a whole bag of popcorn and you’re still hungry.
You’re popcorn hungry.
I want to tell them I’m a stunt pilot, a translator for the UN or an advocate for (fill in the blank with a needy people group here). My thoughts race around in my head and for the next few seconds I mull over the probability of me ever seeing this person again to see if I could actually get away with presenting a new, shiny concoction of an occupation. Then, I shrug a sigh and say, “I invoice people.” Internally, I continue the conversation by adding, “I push buttons on my keyboard and send information to faceless people for eight hours a day.” I’m a desk jockey. I then watch as they stare blankly at me and stutter out an, “Ohhh, OK. Cool.”
Yeah, my heart agrees.
I have a fairly secure job. I get paid enough to cover my bills and I have health insurance that rarely makes me groan. I work with nice people and have no real qualms about them. I’m never micro-managed and my hours are ridiculously flexible. I’m thankful that I’m working and have a source of income.
Please don’t misconstrue my restlessness for ungratefulness.
However, my heart throws tantrums at the thought of desk jockeying it all my life for something that I’m not passionate about. For something that doesn’t make a lick of difference in the life of another human being. I know that I can make an impact wherever I am and in whatever I’m doing, but most days, my heart taps me on the shoulder and tells me there is something more…something else that I should be doing.
I have a restless heart. What about you? Do you ever feel you’ve left someone ‘popcorn hungry?’
For more information on Restless Heart Syndrome (RHS), see my post called “Help, I have RHS!”