Sunday, August 16, 2015


    I am introverting with a vengeance these days. The new job has me on the fly, face to face, constantly interacting, problem solving, socializing, talking, soothing, charming, joking, on stage for all the world to see. All the things that drain the energy from me. I get home feeling absolutely bled dry of all my social skills. All I can do is turn on a BBC murder mystery, "Midsomer Murders" being the current obsession, with its genteel carnage, soothing voices, charming characters, quaint settings, and sweetly haunting music, then put on my workout gear and sweat until I feel some of my psychic energy begin to replenish. I feel my sanity on the verge of making a run for the border, and I am doing all I can to keep it from becoming an expatriate, enjoying sunnier climes. Most people can't, don't, or won't understand this. It does make me come off seeming like an angry, irritated, irritable asshole. I have been accused of this more than a few times. "You are so grumpy, I just stay clear." It is not grumpy. It is being overwhelmed to the point of near shut down. I wish I didn't feel the constant need to explain myself, or apologize. But I do. I know how I must appear to everyone: antisocial, monosyllabic, hostile. It is sheer protective mechanism, I can assure you. Fortunately my dogs understand, and don't talk to me when I get home. I want to apologize to the world, but I won't. I shouldn't have to.

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