Real Adult[s]

I am quickly approaching my final semester of my BA in theatre. I think this focus on theatre and the particular elements of the physical space, characters, and the given/taken energy has put a positive spin on my tendency to analyze. I do, however, struggle with remembering that regular people are not able to be analyzed in the same way as characters are analyzed. Unless it is a play with historical references, there is a limited amount of information about the "people" in a play. You figure out everything 'given' from the playwright and you, by the rules of theatre, are allowed to chose everything else. The playwright supplies a limited amount of facts... or opportunities to read between the lines.
The people in "real life" are constantly adding facts about themselves as more things happen in time. The world works that way and as of right now there is nothing to be done about that. The only way that things stop being added is if someone dies... and even then we might find out more later. To add to this we will never know everything- even about one particular person. I know this, but I like to know things and the guarantee of not knowing things make the analytical aspects of my self restless. This is especially true when there are "open loops" of information for particular people. There are certain questions I have, but for a variety of reasons I am not able to ask these questions or find these answers. This results in a little kid, sitting in the back of the classroom that is in my mind, wiggling in his chair, waving his hand in the back, "teacher! teacher!". He will not be called on because he asks the same question EVERY TIME and all the storage boxes of information in my mind are lacking the answer. He just sits there wiggling with his hand waving... the hand switches periodically because he is getting quite tired. And a little bit of me wonders if by the time I call on him to ask the question [if the opportunity arises] if he will have forgotten the question is altogether. This image of my mind is why I am not a neuroscience, neurobiology, or anything of the sort major... I've been told this isn't exactly what happens. Actually, let's be honest. I know a bit about it, but that, is neither here nor there.

That entire rambling is just to let you know that there is a little kid in the back of the class wondering about you because you don't make sense to me.