I do recognize the irony of blogging this

I recently had the shocking realization that I talk too much.  

Specifically I talk about myself too much.  

It's understandable (playing Devil's Advocate): I've got plans and dreams and I'm excited about them, and I like to talk about them. Sure.

I wanted to inspire, but I suspect what I've done instead is bore. Or worse. 

Not everyone's got live dreams; not everyone has epic plans. But I rather suspect that those who don't, wish they did or even feel guilty that they don't.  

So when someone comes along all fired up about their own awesome shit, it's gonna get a mixed reaction.  On the one hand, that is indeed awesome shit. But on the other, they don't have awesome shit.  It's sorta like how I feel when I see people in relationships. Or those fucking eHarmony commercials.

Or, maybe they do have awesome shit, but I've spent so much time talking about my awesome shit, we never get around to talking about their awesome shit.  

This is utterly unacceptable. It's rude, boorish. It's probably one reason some people don't wanna talk to me often.  It doesn't help that I'm utterly horrible at picking up hints. Because this happened recently, hanging out with a buddy of mine. He gave me several opportunities to shut up about my book already and find out what was up with him.  And I totally missed them. 

When I realized this - the day after our visit - I felt like a total ass. And then I got to thinking and realized this has been a recurring theme. 

Well, now I know, which is, as we're all aware, half the battle.  I'm kinda glad I figured it out myself, but on the other hand, it took me long enough and I kinda wish someone actually had said something.  

I know, too, that this sin isn't unique or cardinal or irredeemable. Probably almost everyone suffers from this at some point in their lifetime.

But I try to tell myself these things, that it's not so bad. I'm probably right - my social issues are likely much deeper, broader and more complex than just being a blowhard. But I still feel like an ass. And, of course, I resolve to do better. 

Then I write a 13-paragraph blog about it.