I believe that I, like many writers, am essentially an introvert. I love nothing more than to be home all day, puttering, writing, walking, thinking — alone. I have to consciously guard against spreading myself too thin in the outside world.
For example, if you read my blog, you’ll know that, recently, I spent a week in Las Vegas with Dh. Then, right after, I spent a weekend at the Hotel Wilber with writing friends, and also attended a gala Masquerade Ball with dancing friends. These things were great fun, I’m very grateful for the opportunities, and it’s necessary to come out of hibernation. But after this whirlwind of activity, I felt depleted of energy. I’m still recovering!
If I don’t have quiet, solitary time, I get cranky and eventually end up angry and depressed. I guess it’s all part of bein’ a writer. Or just part of bein’ me. It’s good to realize and make plans, taking it into account.
Singing . . . “Make the world go awaaaaaaay . . . ”
Do you ever feel like this?