I was standing in the park the other day, wondering why frisbees seem to get bigger as they come closer.  Then it hit me.

Moving At Half-Speed

I feel like I've developing at half the speed of normal people.  Mentally, not physically.  Physically, I'm my age.  (Actually, according to RealAge, I'm about five years older physically.  I have the gut to prove it.)  Mentally, however, I feel I haven't quite progressed the way "normal" people do.  I feel that, as I approach age 30, I am where I should have been at age 15.

The thing is, people would have said the exact opposite when I was five.  And six.  And maybe seven.  By age three, I had already learned how to read.  Self-taught, my mother tells me.  I was brighter than most of the other kids in my class.  So bright, in fact, that for the first three years of school, I was sent up a grade in some subjects.

Only now, as I write this blog entry, do I realize that perhaps I'm only progressing at half-speed in "normal" ways.  Learning how to interact with people "normally."  Learning how to speak "normally."  Learning how to meet women "normally."  But in "abnormal" ways (and I don't really know what that means), I have progressed in an alarming rate.  I am increasingly becoming more and more aware of my surroundings.  Aware of things that go over most people's heads.  Noticing the subtle things that, for some reason, others miss.  Perhaps in my abnormalities am I great, and in my progression towards normality am I becoming mediocre.

Of course, I could just be delusional.

(Now, where's my bottle?)