The Antisocial Butterfly

While chatting with Carmen, who bravely joined me on one of my epic strolls in search of fancy food (she navigated the icy sidewalks of Cambridge for an hour because I got lost trying to find Savenours; I repaid her with pork products and dark chocolate), I discovered she is a lot like my friend L. For them, more than one night spent home alone is a bad thing. Carmen likes to be out and about, doin' stuff.

I like to be out and about doin' stuff too but I'm the reverse. If I spend more than two nights in a row away from home I start feeling a little weary. I've been out the last three nights and I'm going out again on Friday; I'm happy to be home tonight, alone with my kitty and an eggy sandwich.

Of course I can go to far with the being alone thing; being alone too much isn't good for anyone and it's especially not good for me, given my penchant for moodiness, depression, and creative worrying. My social life, like everything, is all about the balance.

One more curious tidbit: A friend of mine gave me a psychic exercise to do to rid myself of the energy other people attach to me all day. She believes I have a very powerful aura; people like being around me (which also sort of explains the Bizarro post below). This is all well and good, but the downside of it is that at the end of the day I feel like the life has been sucked out of me. Which then (and this is my own conclusion) results in my short fuse around strangers, my extreme irritation, and my tendency towards passive-aggressive mumbling whinocerousity.

Anyhoo, I am going to try the exercise she gave me and see what happens.