My middle name is awkward, or it should be. On Tuesdays, I have two left feet, on Fridays, two right feet, and Wednesday – well I have one of each but facing in the wrong direction.

I have unsocial media – no one emails or texts or twitters at me. My facebook picture is a selfie of my finger taking the picture. Awkwardly, if you squint, it bears a resemblance  to another  thing coming towards you.

It’s awkward that people follow my blog but don’t say where to, and it’s too awkward a question to ask.

It’s awkward not being invited to the awkward convention because I’m too awkward.

It’s awkward going outside – what to wear, where to go when you are too socially awkward to have friends to visit. So, my lovely tan, no one sees, comes from the glow of my laptop screen. But then that would be awkward to explain.

This whole exercise is making me feel very awkward . . . . . . .

 

For Linda G. Hill’s SoSC: so non-awkwardly hosted by Joey: awkward.

Talk about awkward. I was two personae’s of this awkward soul who have now joined together in my frilly freudian slip, so if you know Phylor or adh [a darkened house] they  moved in together. Join the evolution if you like – though awkwardly two heads aren’t always better as one. No pressure to follow so I know where you go.