Quiet times

I'm suffering from writer's block, which can only mean one thing. My life is plain sailing. Well, that sounds almost too positive. The truth is, there is nothing seriously disturbing me at this moment (which is good), and there is nothing making me jump around for joy (which isn't a bad thing either). I'm almost beginning to think that happiness is overrated. I'm perfectly happy living a quiet life where nothing causes me major annoyance, pain or sadness. (I note that I used the word happy in the previous sentence.)

Yesterday, while I was in the mist of my volunteer work, I met a really nice man. He's German and has such a simple and polite air about him. He asked some interesting questions with regards to the work I was doing, and I couldn't help but like his quiet intelligence. He was definitely more knowledgeable than I was, but rather than correcting me when he felt I was inaccurate with my assessment, he was able to steer the conversation in such a way that I was able to gleam new understanding from the topic we were discussing. I like him. I was very drawn to him and I enjoyed spending that hour chatting with him. We did not exchange contacts nor names, yet I don't feel a twinge of wistfulness that I may never see him again. Rather, I'm inspired by his quietness that is charismatic at the same time. I realize that you do not need to be an energetic extrovert to draw people to you.

There is definitely this thing between me and German men. From Benjamin at university, Clemence at work, to my all time favorite sportsman, Michael Schumacher, German men have always attracted me. I can't figure if it's because I love how they think, or that their lovely thick brown hair and piercing blue eyes gets to me each time. Yeah, I can be awfully superficial. Heh.