I am not a social butterfly.
      I am not my Daddy’s Girl. (Although it is almost his birthday and I am thinking of him a lot lately… thus the header picture)
      Well, to be fair, I think he was a weird kind of extroverted hermit – capable of intense gregariousness and charisma, but also kind of a loner – …
      …
      ….oh my god, I did marry my dad. WTF? This stream of conscious blogging is making me think of things. Argh. I’ll ruminate on that another day.
      Back to the action.
      He shot the proverbial shit with friends, colleagues, and clients all day. 8-10 hours a day. Then he’d come home and recharge (with a Black Velvet on the rocks). But on the weekends, we often did things with other families and he was popular with other dads. And Keri’s mom – but that’s another story.
      I am not cut-out for it.
      The week of my birthday – we were going, going, going. Always something going on. To most, that might not seem like a big deal. They would say – Josie, you had plenty of downtime to recharge. I mean, sure – you had breakfast with the in-laws on Wednesday morning, but then that evening was clear. And okay, Thursday you had a pair of appointments in the morning, and the food truck with Abbie & Linda in the evening, but you were off that night so what’s the big? And Friday – so you got up, ran around a bit, had people over to game until midnight, then slept and did it all again Saturday until after 11pm? Normal people do that all the time. What? You’re feeling overwhelmed? Too bad. You’ve got plans to go to Greek Fest on Sunday, followed by helping your Mother-in-Law with her computer and then a short nap and then work and then Monday morning your off to the DMV and that can’t possibly be a big deal (actually, it was totally painless, in and out in under 7 minutes with my new license in hand and a horrible photo to replace the good one from 2014).
      To those people I say – loudly and proudly –

FUCK YOU!

      Social interaction is not a battery that charges me up.
      It drains me.
      It makes me anxious at best and too much of it makes me dread any of it.
      So after six days, I am ready to just… *sigh* Be done with it for a few days.
      Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love having our friends over every single Saturday. And I adore Abbie’s Friday night visits (which sometimes are for nails or CRAP! and sometimes are for gaming with Paul and Mark and Mike). But it can be too much when you add in other interactions.
      I think that if I had to go to the office daily, instead of working-from-home with just Venna for company, I would probably enjoy it all less.
      Social Interactions are too much for me at times.
      And that, like many other things I’m coming to terms with, is okay.
      I don’t have to be a social butterfly.
      It is alright that I need quiet time to recharge.
      I wish I had known this when I was sixteen. Or twenty-two. Or thirty-four.
      My daddy’s birthday is looming – May 22nd, for those keeping track – and also the 19th anniversary of his death. So I’ve been thinking a lot lately about him, and things I could learn from him and one of those things is that *I am ENOUGH*.
      He never thought he was enough and it drove his insecurity and his drinking. It drove him right into his grave at age 50 and 1 day.
      I don’t want that for me.
      So in my 36th year I am learning to undo 36 years of learning, to love me as I am. Not what I will be when I lose X number of pounds. Not what I will be when I finish this novel or when I have more money or when I do whatever. Who I am, right now. Who I am, innately.
      I am enough.
      And the me that is, is not a social thriver.
      I’m cool with that.

Note: Image is “Daddy’s Girl” by Me