Queen Emily posted this on FB earlier in the week: Dr Carmella’s Guide to Understanding the Introverted. For anyone who can’t be bothered to click on the link, the gist is that the introverts amongst us (that would be me, the woman who deliberately spent the entire Christmas vacation alone) live in a hamster ball of personal space. Socialising is exhausting, so we have to be lured out of the hamster ball, and there has to be a good reason for it. Then we have to run away and recharge by not talking to anyone.
My immediate thoughts on reading all this were:
1. ZOMG, yes. I’ve always found being around people completely knackering and it’s getting worse as I get older and more selfish. If I have more than two social occasions planned in any one week, it’s too much; it’s really terrible planning if they’re on consecutive nights. I love my friends but I limit my interactions precisely because I’d rather spend less time with them that is enjoyable, than more when I am guiltily aware I’d prefer to be at home with a
nutritionally balanced meal bowl of cereal.
2. Where can I get me one of them hamster ball things for reals?
3. Hey, my car is a virtualization of my hamster ball. My home is too, but the car is the only space I own. It’s the ultimate in defensible territory because, unless I get car-jacked on the rough streets of Oxford, I decide who, and when, someone else is in there with me. Most of my journeys are solitary commutes, and even then I sometimes put on a headphone so I can listen to an audio-book and be a step further removed from the exterior world. (Only one headphone; I think both of them might be illegal or something.)
So I ask my fellow introverts (quietly, and non-invasively, and don’t answer if you don’t feel like it, I totally understand): what is your hamster ball?