Semi-Daily Scribbles

Gary bristled when his mother, Catherine, made the suggestion he be more relatable. He asked for clarification: relatable to what? Catherine told her son 'people.' Start with people. That'd be good. Gary cringed at the prospect of a spit-shined and lesser version of himself. He knew what he knew; couldn't "unknow" Euclid's theorem and all the nifty proofs that followed, for example. He would continue to use pusillanimous whenever he damned well pleased. Gary had this conversation before with his mother. Catherine believed her only child would live out his days with nought but big words and mathematical brain twisters as his only form of companionship. Gary accepted his mother's concern because there wasn't anything else he could do. Catherine Q.'s view of the world would never change. She'd continue to see Gary's solitary pursuits as abnormal, unhealthy. But it wasn't like Gary never left his room. He was head groundskeeper of the family's award-winning botanical gardens, and had just mulched the sunflowers before Catherine hit him with the relatable thing again. Gary liked his life especially because the majority of his interactions were with inanimate objects. He'd long ago built up endurance to survive amongst the planet's other, more quarrelsome, inhabitants.