Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Misfit

Just before the elevator closes, he scoots on.  One of the building security guys.  We nod "hello." 

After a few floors of silence, he gives me a big grin and says, "This sure is Stock Show* weather, isn't it?"

I assume he's referring to the fact that it's fucking freezing outside.  But I have no idea why any particular kind of weather is better or worse for the Stock Show.  Though I guess if it were really hot, it would be kind of yucky and smelly and sweaty being around all of the livestock, but they hold it in Denver in January, making extreme heat unlikely.  Anyway.

I give him a strained smile, chuckle and say, "Right."

It's times like these that I seriously wonder if I suffer from some sort of personality disorder that makes me antisocial.  Because it never occurs to me to talk to strangers unless I have something productive to say, like, "your keys are about to fall out of your pocket" or "excuse me, is that seat taken?"  I have conversations in my head all the time, to the point that occasionally I'll start having them out loud without even realizing it, so I've never really needed small talk or chit chat to fill the silence of an elevator ride, because it's so noisy in my brain already. 

Plus I much prefer being alone to being with people.

Not that I don't like people.  I love my family and my friends and I enjoy spending time with them.  But I take enormous solace from quiet time by myself -- quiet time that I rarely get. 

As a nod to the fact that I took care of the kids by myself for the better part of a year and a half while J was in Vail, J has given me a pass to take time on the weekends to get out of the house whenever I want to (within reason).  So this Saturday morning, I'm going to get up early, drive to the mountains, go skiing for a few hours, and then come home in time to hang with the family and have some friends over for dinner.

J said, "why don't you call Suzanne or one of your other friends and see if they want to go?" 

I thought about it.  There are any number of friends I could call, or I could call my cousins. 

But honestly, the thought of a few hours on the slopes by myself, feeling the cold on my face and the burn in my muscles and the exhiliaration of speeding down a steep hill, without having to talk to anyone or worry about anyone else, is intoxicating.

I'll go it alone.
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*The National Western Stock Show is in town.

3 comments:

  1. I totally get it.

    I'm always confused by people who complain that they have no one to eat lunch with. Hello! You've got your awesome self!

    That said, I am the kind of person who just starts talking to anyone I meet. I just walked to the dry cleaners in the 25º freeze and stopped and chatted with a couple of strangers I saw on the street.

    I really am a weirdo!

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  2. I think it's healthy. And especially as a mother, you constantly have someone neeeeeeeeding you. It's so nice to be alone and not needed.

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  3. I agree. It's healthy. And the fact that you're willing to ask for the alone time is HUGE. It would be so much easier for some of us to just resent the fact that we don't get any alone time.

    But now that we do and we don't have to ask for it, we don't have to own up to the passive aggressive elements to our nature.

    Somehow I've become a royal we.

    Have fun on the slopes!

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