Sometimes friends try to get me out more. “You need to be around people more! Come eat lunch! Come socialize! When was the last time you were at a party? What’s wrong with you?”
Nothing’s wrong with me, I’m simply content in my own company, that’s all.
Oh sure, it’s fun to get up with some friends and go to lunch, or shopping, or whatever, maybe once a month. It’s already stretching the limits of my sociability to go to Prayer Group once a week and spend a couple of hours with some ladies. It takes me an hour to get psychologically ready for that, and another hour afterward to come down out of it. To even think about being at a larger gathering is daunting.
And a party? Where you’re expected to roam the room and make small talk and be constantly smiling? Eeek! I’d rather have an ingrown toenail cut out!
Church is different, it’s not a social event and I can sit at the back of the room and slip out quick if the crowd make me nervous. Today there was a list going around, to sign up for Dinners of Eight. It’s where you and 3 other couples meet once a month at someone’s house for dinner. The host cooks the meat and everyone else brings a side, and you do this for 9 months. I looked at the list and my hand hovered with the pen, then I realized we’d have to host it twice. 6 people I barely know would be in my house. For a meal. Oh sure we have room and a nice big dining table and all and Terry’s always saying we need to do something like that but I kind of went EEEK in my head and didn’t sign us up. Because we’d have people in the house. This house, my refuge and fortress from the world, where I can drop the shoes and it’s a safe and comfortable place.
And….I like being alone. And I’m kinda chicken about having company…