|So what if my introversion is a knitted body tube? You got a problem with knitted body tubes? Huh?|
Also, I NEVER answer the phone (Hubs'll call a thousand times before I pick up; he'll stare when the ringing home phone fails to rouse even a flicker in my eyes; my son, Gabriel, will race to my cell when it beeps with an incoming text alert, absolutely boggled that I don't seem to care.). And don't get me started on social engagements (they are SO few and far between).
|Why venture outside when my head's already teeming with life inside?|
Though I'm happy to haunt the rooms of my house, which is isolated in itself, way out in rural Georgia (I'm talking cow country, y'all) -- I do have moments of guilt. Gee, Z, you really should read more blogs. Answer the phone. Meet friends for dinner. (Working on the latter: seeing Alesa Warcan soon for BBQ & shenanigans!! *waves to Alesa*). Most times, the guilt goes sidewinding away after a bit.
Other times, I look elsewhere to justify my reclusivity. To wit: a fellow kindred recluse, Danielle Steel. This is what she had to say about hiding out at home when writing (part of a post on her writing process).
"I don’t talk to anyone..., don’t return calls, don’t see anyone, and don’t leave the house. I go from my bed to my desk, to my bathtub at the end of my workday, then back to bed, and then back to work. I work about 20 to 22 hours straight, sleep for 3 or 4 hours, and then go back to work. And I do that until I have told the story and the first draft is finished."
So, at least it's not just me. Though, even if it were, I'd be nowhere to be found when it came time to explain myself. Cuz it's just me. What about you? Introvert? Extrovert?