Nobody Likes Me, Everybody Hates Me, Guess I’ll Go Eat Worms, or Pity Party of One

I’m not gonna lie.  It’s been a rough few days around here with Hubby gone.  I don’t know what’s happened to me.  I used to be so good at being by myself.

I’ve never been what the kids call “popular.”  I was always a little too weird, a little too shy, a little too nerdy.  And I was okay with that.  I had a few good friends, but was never a social butterfly.  I was fine spending time alone, reading, writing, listening to music.

My sister, on the other hand, was the quintessential popular girl.  Homecoming queen, cheerleader, prom princess.  She was outgoing, friendly, nice to the dorky kids.  She went to parties.

And we’re still that way.  I’m perfectly content to spend quiet weekends at home with Hubby.  She spends every waking moment surrounded by people.  I come home exhausted after a day of making conversation.  She calls on the drive home from dropping off her daughter because she doesn’t like to be alone, even in the car.

Hubby bought me a book a couple of years ago called Introvert Power.  At first I was pissed because I thought it was some sort of cheesy self-help book, and frankly, he should know better.  But it was actually very insightful, and explains the difference between introverts and extroverts this way: Introverts recharge by being alone with their thoughts.  Extroverts recharge by being surrounded by other people.  Me.  My sister.

But the past few days, being alone has been driving me a little crazy.  The other night, that stupid Benjamin Button movie was on.  I never had any desire to see it, but it showed up on my TV, and I was too lazy to change it.  I wasn’t really watching it, anyway.  I was busy doing other things.  (Okay, I was lying on the couch with my laptop or watching recorded shows on my DVR.)  But I caught two parts that did me in.  First, the faith healing, where the preacher lays hands on the woman with “twisted insides” and wouldn’t you know it, wham-bam, she goes ahead and gets pregnant.  As if it were that easy.  And then the end, one line, “Some people are mothers,” and I crumbled into a sobbing, snotty mess.

I’ve been sleeping too much and generally not getting much done.  I mope around the house and have to force myself to leave it.  Going back to work has helped a little, but I can’t wait to get back home and get into some comfy clothes.

Hubby suggested I get together with some friends I haven’t seen in a while.  The problem is my friends are a lot like me, and we all kind of suck at keeping in touch.  We usually see each other every few months, one-on-one, and chat over coffee for a few hours to get caught up.  I’m sure I’m overdue for a coffee date with a couple of them, but to do it just because Hubby’s out of town seems a bit contrived.  I already feel like a bad friend, and I don’t want to take advantage of their friendship by making them listen to me whine about Hubby being gone. 

And besides, I have this feeling that what I really need to do is reconnect with myself, with the part of me that used to look forward to an evening at home alone.  Because I think she’s still in there somewhere, and I feel like the two of us could be really productive in the week or so before Hubby gets home.

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