A query for those weird moments when social dynamics are misunderstood.
I could relate with a story, but I sense you don’t want to hear that.
I could iterate all the steps I have in my head, but I sense you don’t want to hear that either.
I really don’t know what you want, and I am uncomfortable asking you lest it sound like confrontation.
Yes, I know how to use this program. I sense I know a little more about it in some ways than you.
No, that button doesn’t really do anything different – it’s all the same data.
I know you’re sad and frustrated, but I’m having difficulty getting over your know-it-all-attitude. I cannot distinguish between sadness and spite, and this frustration makes my reaction snappy and maybe rude.
I try to pepper it with smiles and thanks when it’s appropriate, but I know it doesn’t suffice.
My quesiton really is this: how can I be around so many adults who are all so immature? What will I look like when I am your age? Will I have gone through some life roller coasters that strip away any currently collected maturity that forces me to give way to immaturity?
I hope not. I hope older and wiser is the case for me. I hope you can get over this slump you are in. I get the feeling you’re not at the top of your game, and that makes me sad for you. I do hope you can also remember that your problems are your own, not mine. I do feel empathy for you, but our lack of connection makes me uncertain how far I should go to attempt to connect.