Thursday, August 27, 2009

The Anti-Social Life

For the past few months, I've been living a hermit's life, with a few notable exceptions. I went to a wedding, as I blogged, and I went to see Wicked on tour. And even at the show, I was basically alone, having inherited the ticket from someone who could no longer attend. It was still a fun thing to do, but I wouldn't call it socializing.

The problem with working from home is that I'm not forced to befriend any coworkers other than my computer, and the television is my water-cooler (along with the IMDb message boards). Once I'm employed full-time, that shouldn't be a problem, hopefully with some co-workers near my own age. I'm curious to discover my friend-making skills in the workplace. Will we bond over projects instead of homework, tyrannical bosses in place of demanding professors? I hope it can be that easy: just start a conversation, go out for a happy hour and go home with one more friend to add to Facebook (one I've actually met).

Of course, there are always old friends. There are still some high school friends in town, but I've been remiss in seeing them for about four years, so we don't talk anymore than I do with the friends I left in New York. I'd like to reconnect, but we have such varying schedules that I would need to make a concerted effort to reach out. I want to, but the best of intentions rarely translate into actual invitations.

It's where my inherent introversion kicks in, the voice in my head saying it would just be easier to stay in for the night and watch television. I'm a rut-lover. If I could schedule out my entire week, down to the minute, I'd be a pretty happy camper. I love predictability and I hate change. Maybe it doesn't make sense that I love an industry with little stability, or that I went to college out of state and went abroad for a semester, but those were things I had to do, I had to push past the torturous change to get what I wanted. It's easy to push when the reward is the college I've dreamed of, but it's hard to make myself want to clean up and drive somewhere for a night with the girls. I know it's important, but my inner hermit just wants to put it off 'til tomorrow.

Eventually, though, I'll run out of tomorrows, and I don't want to make it into another decade of life still not going out or seeing people, I'm afraid of where that could lead. I'm already a knitter, and a cat person (though I love dogs as well), I don't want to end up the cranky old woman down the street.


  1. "I don't want to end up the cranky old woman down the street."
    This is what I call "multiplying by eternity" - taking a current, probably temporary situation (most situations are), and imagining what would life be like if it were ALWAYS like this. It's an important tool to tell you if you're on the right track heading towards where you want to "end up" (there is no such place, in fact, we're always on the move, but suppose there is), however this tool can be inhibiting and intimidating at times. Sometimes things just need to run their own course. Maybe you need this time right now, it does'nt mean it's forever.

  2. You already know the solution.
    >> "but it's hard to make myself want to clean up and drive somewhere for a night with the girls."

    I know you're plenty capable of doing things that are hard.

    The trick is don't wait for an invitation. Ask for one. You've got to do something to get the ball rolling.