This Awkward Story

As time goes by, I seem to get less angry but more frustrated.  I am always surprised when I see myself in a mirror; if I have just had a conversation with someone, & then, say, go to the rest room, I am astonished that the person in the mirror washing his hands is who they saw when they were talking to me.  (As an aside, they often say that you shouldn't look at yourself when you're on acid, but I avoided it because I didn't want to see that I looked the same while I was feeling like a different person.)  Another thing, which might be noticeable in this blog: I am becoming something of a blowhard.  Stories take longer because I feel a need to contextualize.  Although I am entirely aware that there's a 90% chance that no one's listening.  Is it my vanity that makes me think, Just in case.  The wife told me I don't get into as many arguments as I used to, but I guess I don't talk to as many people as I used to, or perhaps I don't talk to as many argumentative people as I used to.  I remember I poo-pooed my friend Joe's Facebook status update many months ago when he wrote something like I still don't know what I want to do with my life.  After I apologized to him for being dismissive of a perfectly valid thought, I think I'd rewrite it to suit my needs to say I still don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life.  I think sometimes that I had some idea, some purpose, at some time - or that I thought I had some idea, some purpose, at one time.  If you asked me now, I don't think I could tell you what it was - but I can't speak for me back then.  Someone recently was describing a memory that we shared, of a time we were together, & although I remembered the same thing, I didn't remember that it was me with the person in the memory.  I was certain it was a story the person had told me that had happened to her & some other guy, not an event in which I took part.  It must be my memory trying to save me from my life.  & speaking of rewrites: I take back what I said at the beginning of this dumb paragraph.  I'm not more frustrated, I'm more resigned.  & that's pretty frustrating.