You Talking 'bout Me??

Today was my day to go to that far-off, out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere district where the crazy people live. And, although it's an irrelevant point for this blog, I would like to note for the record just how grateful I am that I don't regularly work there. Those people are NUTS.

Anyway, I had a discussion while there that made me think hard--okay, maybe not hard, exactly, but certainly for longer than a minute--about how we humans perceive each other, and specifically, at the risk of seeming a little self-indulgent, how certain individuals perceive me.

It involved a simple and rather short discussion. After arriving, you see, I tracked down the special education coordinator to get my assignments for the day. Generally she keeps a list of kids she wants tested, and I start with number one and go until I can stand the crazy no longer. On the way to finding her, I ran across my boss, who also happened to be in the district today to meet with some of my fellow employees. How nice. So there we all were, being smiley and friendly-like.

Now you all know how I prefer to illustrate my stories through recapping actual conversations, rather than the higher-level method of summarizing the main points, so here's how it went down:

Coordinator: Well, let's see here, Wicked, it looks like I've got a couple of kids for you. Hmm, how 'bout you start with Janie?

Wicked: 'kay.

Coordinator: Yeah, she's an interesting kiddo. Sometimes she thinks she's a dinosaur. (Note: this child is in the 9th grade, so this really is a little...weird.)

MY BOSS: Oh, that's perfect for Wicked. That's her kind of kid.

Wicked: WHA--?! ...Okay, yeah.

Let me note two things here:

1. My boss has never actually seen me work. She is not onsite with me. While we have had any number of conversations over the past five years, they usually focus on boring special eddy things like qualifiying kids for services and how to tell when it's time to discontinue services. She has no experience in knowing what kind of kids I am drawn to.

2. It is absolutely true that this is my kind of kid. I do like 'em weird.

But here's the question that's been plaguing me: how does she know??! What little hints about my corked up inner psyche have been quietly seeping into our conversations? Or is it something else entirely that tips her off, something more subtle, like the way I sit criss-cross-applesauce in my chair at meetings or my lack of professional clothing? Is it that laminated card I carry in my wallet that spells out WEIRD in bold letters? Are these the clues that made her realize--and feel so very, very confident in the fact--that I'm a little, uh...outside the mainstream?

I doubt I'll ever know. Those of you out there who know me are probably laughing your arses off and screaming out, "duuuuh" because it is, like, so obvious. If it'd been a snake and all that. I suppose I'll just have to live with a little (more) mystery in my life on this matter. The good news is that I don't mind being odd one bit, nope, not at all, sir. It's just that now I'm feeling a little insecure about my ability to hide it behind that shining professional veneer I usually exude (all of you, stop laughing).

In summary, I would like to say that I sure am glad I have this venue to explore all my inner workings. This high level of introspection has exhausted me, though, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat something cheesey.