. . . and now it's tomorrow

I don't intend for this blog to be just me whining every day. So today is the good stuff. (Don't read that or imagine I'm saying that in a creepy drug deal voice. I just mean today's blog focuses on the positives. You know what? We should start over. I think we've gotten off-track here.)

So I survived the rest of yesterday. (Thank you for the cards, floral and edible bouquets, and tickets to Italy.) I drove home in a full-blown commuter coma. But I was conscious enough to monitor the fuel indicator -- even before it started dinging -- and even stopped for gas. I resented it because I was maybe three miles from my house by then and I just wanted to get HOME.

And then . . . I was. Home. It was cool and quiet. As the evening darkened I turned on first a floor lamp (to the left of the couch) and then a wall sconce (to the right), both just 60 watters. So even with lights it was pretty dark. Just a couple of overlapping areas of soft light. I ate frozen pizza (even baked it first, ha ha, my little joke*) and read. My squeaking demon (cat, for those who didn't start this blog at Day 1, weirdo) snuggled on me, until she got distracted by other things. I thought about watching IT Crowd because coworker D recently started watching it and was talking about an episode I don't remember (which means no Richmond). But I liked the quiet too much.

And now it's morning again, which is where we came in. Even better: it's my late morning (the library opens later and closes later so we librarians come in later. yay.) I got up an hour later than I do the rest of the week and was still up early. I showered and washed my hair and shaved my legs. The fancy shower. I made a real breakfast, what I think of as luxury breakfast: sausage (oven baked not fried), poached egg with cheese and spices, and cornbread. And I'm writing the majority of my blog (I'll read over it and add tags etc on my break) and it's not even 10 am!

It's not all paradise. Of course there have been usual daily eye-rolling moments. I bumped a small container (hand-woven using packaging tape. What did you do during lockdown?) of two dozen or so small butterfly clips and barrettes) and spent five minutes crawling on the bathroom floor retrieving them all -- plus several other misc items I didn't know had fallen under the vanity (actually a very small side table I got at a garage sale because fixtures made for bathrooms are waaaay too big for my tiny bathroom) when I really needed to pee. The demon squeaked up a major storm while I was showering, which was annoying but obviously it wasn't because there was a serial killer in the house, so I'm just going to put that in the neutral column. I lost much cheese off of the egg when I almost (but didn't) knocked over the plate. I dropped the fork into icky dishwater, got a clean one, and then left it in the kitchen. I'm typing this with just my right hand while my left holds the keyboard over the demon's head. I ate breakfast that way, too.

None of these would have had me sobbing on floor, half-dressed, make up mixed with tears mixed with snot. More like, they would be the annoyances I would remember as the rest of the day went to hell. I wistfully remember the smell of the lavender shower gel and the lovely lovely poached egg. ahhhh

Ok. I have no idea where this is going now. I intended to end with a PSA about being kind to introverts as we slip into yet another phase of the new normal. You extroverts had to live completely against your natures for anywhere from zero days to more than a year. Remember how unmotivated (on a good day) to utterly forlorn and lifeless (bad days) you felt? That's how we introverts feel every damn day of our lives from birth because the extrovert way is the socially-accepted right way of living. Only antisocial weirdo psychopaths don't live by the maxim "the more the merrier." (Not true, beeteedubs, as anyone who's into true crime podcasts and shows knows. Psychopaths learn to mimic "normal" humans, i.e. extroverts. If they shunned large gatherings, left parties early, and were last-minute cancels for everything they would stand out and people would accuse them of being psychos.)

Anyway. Be aware. Give us our few moments of peace when we sneak off. Please don't hug us without asking, yes, even when finally get together for the first time post-pandemic. And really never hug us if we've ever explicitly said we don't like being hugged.

Actually, that goes for any person. No unwanted physical contact. Even if you're friends. Even if you're related. Be respectful, y'all.

*I know I'm not a "jokes" person. I recognized that and acknowledge it and I don't tell jokes.