My husband is dragging me out into society.
Over the years I’ve truly lived the life of a recluse. Early it was because I was raising four children alone and working nonstop. After my kids moved out last week… er, after my kids moved out, I kept up the tradition of coming home to the computer and pretty much never going out, alone or in company. In fact, my comfort zone’s in front of the computer or curled up with a book. TV is my novelty variation. Anything but meeting people.
G says he used to be so painfully shy he never talked to anyone. Once he started working in the trucking industry, though, he got so tired of his own company that he started talking to anybody who’d listen. After his claustrophobic turn with the Addams family, where he was again pretty isolated, these days he’s communicating with pretty much everybody he encounters, and has befriended lots of them. He’s wheedled me in to having company for dinner a few times. I don’t really know most of these folks even though they’re neighbors and nice enough people. I’m getting there, though. G’s seeing to it.
There’s a degree of irony there, because while I was never truly a social butterfly, when I was younger I at least DID make it a point to encounter other human beings. Even my parents, crazy as they were, had friends and went to church socials, things like that. Maybe that’s the thing – after I stopped going to church it seemed natural to let the social interaction subside too.
G takes the view that it’s unhealthy to be locked up in my nerdiness. I hate when he’s so disgustingly right.
Car hunt still in progress. Baby daddy worked on old monster and while not perfect it IS running substantially cooler now, even in the warmer weather of the past couple of days. We’re supposed to hopefully catch up with someone this morning and see a promising car. We’ve seen a few decent vehicles advertised but they’re snapped up nearly as soon as they’re posted, before we can get to them. If and when the car deal’s made, I’ll snap picture and post here. Then I have to convince G to name the car. He’s like I used to be: why on earth name an inanimate object? I have to explain he can’t say that or he’ll hurt the car’s feelings, heh!
Otherwise, having a slow start to the morning, which is perfectly fine with me.