Biography?

Seriously?

Our anaesthetist makes small talk with me over a gastroscopy procedure and that’s the kind of books I tell him I read?

I am so bloody awkward. Seriously.

Thank God he didn’t follow up that question with who I’m reading about right now when the closest to a biography I read was Joe Perry’s and even then, it was mainly about Aerosmith. Said anaesthetist probably assumed I devour highly cerebral books about important political figures like Barack Obama or Winston Churchill. Maybe that’s why he said “me, too.”

I highly doubt it.

Memoirs.

I should’ve said ‘memoirs.’

But, well, nothing much I can do about that short interaction. It was as futile as trying to stop my safety goggles from fogging up through the gaps created by my mask and my rising panic over the discomfort of such small talk while trying to deliver an effective jaw thrust support to keep the patient’s airway patent.

He’s the same anaesthetist who always asks me how my weekend went or if I have any plans for the long weekend. I don’t know why he keeps asking. I mean, it’s been four years now and my answer is always the same: Nothing.

Except that today, for a change, I added: I live a boring life.

Which made the endoscopist laugh.

Thus the follow up question, “Do you read books?”

To which I replied I do. And the rest, as they say, is history.

History I wish I could Control+Alt+Delete. Replace it with something witty that would give the impression that I may look dumb but I’m actually cool or something.

The truth is — as sad as it sounds — I do live a boring life. But then here’s the clincher: It’s just the way I like it. I’m happy.

Also, I have very low standards.

Just the simple act of walking to the park down the road with my family after a long day of work is happiness for me already. It might not be something to celebrate with champagne and confetti, but enough to take pictures of to commemorate the moment and the slow death of summer.

So, yes, I live a boring life.

And yes, I do enjoy reading about other people’s lives, whether they are in the form of biography or autobiography or memoirs.

Upon deeper introspection, I don’t have a problem with biographies.

I have a problem with small talks.

*Raven at 6 years old