A British porch is a musty, forbidding non-room in which to fling a sodden umbrella or a muddy pair of boots; a guard against the elements and strangers. By contrast the good ol’ American front porch seems to stand for positivity and openness; a platform from which to welcome or wave farewell; a place where things of significance could happen.
I have a way of dealing with situations where I come off awkward, or people think I’m purposely trying to make things uncomfortable. But normally I’m talking really slowly or there’s a lot of silence because there’s just nothing going on. I’m just totally freaking out, but from the outside perspective it looks like I’m in control.
So is that, like, you were dreaming you were a mountain climber and you jump off the bed onto the chair, and then the dresser? Like the guy who’s eating a giant marshmallow and then wakes up wondering what happened to his pillow, or? What’s the math?