I browsed at the bookstore during a break at the convention. Every one seems to be having a grand time getting together with colleagues and old friends. I - being me - on the other hand, was content with roaming around by myself. (I did see a handful of colleagues walking around by themselves [mostly men], looking perfectly content. Kindred spirits, perhaps).
I saw this book. The fact that I found it both funny and sad made me… kind of sad. Are they really all hanging out without me?
Took a whole day of brief chats with old friends and good quality time with the hubby and the kids during the latter part of the day, plus a good night’s sleep for me to realize that — heck, it’s about time I accept myself for who I am!
INFJ. The fact that I am most comfortable being alone should not make me uncomfortable! Does that make sense? I mean, there is absolutely nothing embarrassing about spending much-coveted alone time! Nothing! If I let go of my self-consciousness and my ooh-they-must-think-I-am-such-a-loser worries (which was nonsense because barely anyone seemed to pay attention to seeing me alone; they were mostly kind and warm and gave the most generous smiles and greetings), it was fun spending time alone at the mall! No small talk. No unnecessary chit-chat. No having to worry about what the other wants or needs. Me time!
I am 43, for goodness’ sake. Time to celebrate me for being me, quirks and eccentries and all.
Note added: And because there was a significant amount of brief bursts of interaction with the crowd that went on yesterday, today I felt the need to unwind and decided to stay home, be quiet, have nonspecific itinerary, and probably just some lazy, quality time with the kids. Recharge, introvert-style.
Tomorrow, I will be back at the convention, more confident and ready to mingle and catch up. Or not. Will just be happy and content, whatever.