Go Away

I can vividly remember a handful of the birthdays I had as a kid. I remember one where I was dressed up in a frilly skirt and everyone else was in play clothes. I remember several where I ended up in tears. And I remember that during most of them there was a point, when I wanted all those screaming kids to get the hell out of my house and leave me alone.

Call it the curse of the only child but I need my space.

I have yet to master moderation. My OCD tendencies have me fluctuation from stints of insane busyness when I can't stand to be alone and I want to be home even less to spurts on mandatory quiet. This is usually when I get in trouble for ignoring voicemails for weeks at a time, hunkering down in my apartment like a hermit, and by all accounts, falling off the face of the earth.

I know that I am not unique in this need for personal time, it is just that when it hits, it hits so hard that the thought of having to go out makes me ill.

I am entering a quiet phase. I have done little this week other than be a homebody and surprisingly, I still have no desire to socialize.

Luckily, I have friends who understand and hopefully when this anti-social phase ends, there will be tons of busyness, waiting for me where I let off.