For as far back as I can remember, I have been eager to please. That is, I have been willing to do things for people, anyone, even if the person is someone I do not like or get along with. I suspect I learned (or inherited, depending on your opinion of nature vs nurture) this trait from my mother. She would help anyone who asked, regardless of how she felt about them personally.
I can't explain it except that I feel good when I do a favor for someone. It does not matter whether I get so much as a "thank you" for it, it just gives me a feeling of pleasure that I cannot explain beyond using that word. And, conversely, if I have to refuse to help or do a favor, I feel guilty about it. Maybe it has something to do with endorphins.
That is how I broke my kneecap. Doing a favor. And I am now committed to going to that friend's house again tomorrow to finish up (I hope) what I was doing the Day of the Great Fall.
I guarantee I will be giving that ottoman a wide berth, though.
A Night Unremembered
7 years ago