An entertaining piece for those of you who are like-minded. Enjoy.
My life as an Introverted Writer
I’m an introvert. Always have been.
I need time to recharge after major events. Hell, I need time to recharge after answering the door. (When I do. Sometimes I hide.)
I’m definitely not a people-person. It’s not that I don’t like people, just that I wish they wouldn’t come near me. Or talk to me. Or look at me.
Personal space, you know?
I’d say, instead of a social butterfly, I’m more of a social spider. Creeping away from commotion, scrunching into dark corners, hiding behind a web. (I completely just grossed myself out. I’m wicked arachnophobic and compared my people-skills to those nasty 8-legged critters. Now I’m itchy. I hope the analogy was worth it.)
When I was little, people used to be nice about my introverted nature and call me a “homebody.” Now it’s like, “Holy crap, woman. When’s the last time…
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