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11 - Growing up . . . or not

Okay. I did it. I went to see him. It was just as I expected, only not the way I thought. I understand that this crazy woman who was making fun of me has grown up with a limited perspective, because her patrician bloodlines, her exquisite form and image and how people tend to react to them have led her to expect everyone to fawn over her.
I know I did.
So they have stunted her maturity and brought her to a point where she relies on her well-developed social skills to overcome the ill effects of her egocentrism, when she would have been so much better off just growing up.
Of course Ser Briggs told me that is "a typical reactivistic responsive perspective for the colonist genotype." I had promised not to walk out, and we had arranged for a couple of guards to sit on either side of him so I wouldn't . . . get in trouble (again). He insisted he didn't want to reset the counter on the days since a lost time accident.
A great deal of the issues I had been facing seem attributable to that, although he denied any culpability for my short temper or my haphazard clumsiness. "Some things just take time and patience," was his copout. I thought he was patronizing me until he showed me some statistics his office has been collecting, and it really looks like I am not so unusual.
"But why am I so freaked out all the time?" I asked.
"That's why I keep trying to sit down with you and finish your orientation. You need to learn where your own limits are in handling stress and dealing with the increased mental fatigue from your honorable efforts at socializing. Not everyone has learned to look past their own limits, and what you need to accept is that you yourself are lagging in this area. I know you like to read, so I've prepared a suggested reading list for you, whenever you are ready to download it. Your latest course of nanites should make you more familiar with your Core Techs and how to use them. Really, you're on the right track. It just takes longer than you thought."
A tone rang out over the speaker, and he responded to find out there was an issue in one of the preparation areas which required his immediate attention. Apparently someone working a side job had repeatedly failed to sanitize a tank and had walked off the job without even attempting to finish.
"Say, I know you were looking for some extra income, and I really could use -- Hello?"
I was already out the door, and it was shutting behind me. Maybe he should have locked it. Good thing he didn't.
Ducking back into my room, I saw that whole bunch at the lounge. She lives on Tau, not on Kovenhavn. I wonder what she was doing out there when I was there. That's okay. I guess I'm a lot closer to sorting these things out. I still don't like or trust that guy, and as for her . . . I think I'll enroll in evasive tactics.