Am I smug?

Am I smug about knowing that I don't know about anything? I eject myself from the argument by virtue of my own ignorance, but then I'm not partaking at all, not giving anything that I potentially could give.

Today I have ate 1360, or else 1560, written down elsewhere. I don't know about portion sizes. I also went on two walks and did a three hour dancing class, it made me sweaty and aware of my own lack of grace and the waning of my agility. It wasn't as fun as it was when I was at the other dance school, the teachers weren't as good.

One of the volunteers at the House asked the other day if I wasn't worried about being raped if I volunteer at the shelter overnight. I'm not, really. I know it could happen; but I believe Lady of the House would protect me, and I think it would be a shame not to do something I wanted to because I was scared. The world's a big place. Then she asked what I would talk to them about; I had never thought of that. The people in the shelter are easy to talk to; I don't feel I have to impress them, I can just be myself, and they can just be themselves. Sometimes we don't have a language in common but then, silence is comfortable. It's all men, and men are different to women, and I like being there. I am worried about more romantic prepositions; I'm no beauty but I can see that I'd be a case of any port in a storm; if you're living in a shelter you just want closeness, sexual or otherwise.