Today's Thoughts

My life changed completely after I adopted my dogs. I loved my routine before the dogs, but that doesn't mean I regret having gotten the dogs. I enjoyed spending time with them and taking care of them as soon as I brought them home ten years ago. Before the dogs, every morning, I would go to the gym, shower and get dressed there, and go to work. After work, I would go to my favorite bookstore and read books I couldn't afford to buy until they closed at 11pm. On Fridays and Saturdays, after work, I would go to my coffee shop and read my book there because they always had live music those two nights. I never went out to meet people. Everything I did, I did alone. I liked it that way.

Being an introvert, I cherish the time I spend at home, alone. I read, watch movies, write, play with the dogs, and work on various puzzles. When I was working eighteen hours a day six days a week, I dreamed for a moment alone. I tried to keep Sundays off, but I ended up working a few hours even on Sundays, which was also laundry day and grocery-shopping day and cook-for-the-whole-week day and clean-the-house day and take-the-dogs-to-the-park day. I longed for an hour alone with no responsibility to anyone just to read or write. In those days, the only “reading” for pleasure I did was in the form of audiobooks. I listened to CDs in the car during my commute. The only writing I did was a post on a blog here or there once every few months. I did manage to watch movies at home on DVD, but to save time, I did that while I did my stretches and exercise at home. I only used the gym for its swimming pool every Sunday early morning, and that was after my favorite coffee shop at the beach, where I liked to go for breakfast, permanently closed.

I know many people, particularly extroverts, find this desire to stay at home alone weird, but to each his own. I know it's difficult for them to understand. I get as excited for having alone time as they do when they're invited to a cool party. Now, when I get invited to parties, the struggle begins. If I don't go, they'll get offended. They're my friends, and I don't want to offend them. If I go, I know I won't enjoy myself. I'll stand in a corner and watch everyone have fun while thinking about all the things I wish I were doing at home. Besides, my dogs don't like to be left alone. When I go to work, I have no choice, but parties? I think about them and feel guilty to have left the house to make sure friends weren't offended when my first responsibility is to my babies. I usually find a valid excuse to decline such invitations. I personally don't mind small gatherings where I know everyone and enjoy their company, but even that has a time limit. Anything more than two hours, and the same thoughts start to creep into my mind.

Now, with this virus spreading like wildfire, everyone is talking about social distancing, which makes sense, and I read so many articles on how to stay at home. I know it's difficult for some people, but I don't, or rather can't, understand it. I ask myself Can't these people stand themselves for a couple of weeks? Then I started thinking Maybe they don't love themselves as much as I love myself... which leads to my next thought Do I love myself too much? Am I a narcissist?

Facebook reminded me today that I've been a member for eleven years. I didn't know exactly when I had joined Facebook, but apparently it was March 16, 2009. What I do remember is that everyone I knew was on Facebook then, and they kept telling me to join. I don't regret having opened an account because, shortly after, I found many old friends in different countries that I would probably never see or hear from again if it weren't for social media, or, more specifically, Facebook.

Around the same time, one of my friends told me to get a Twitter account, which I did immediately. I joined, but I was learning how to work with Facebook, so I didn't want to overdo it, and I forgot all about my Twitter account until years later a couple of colleagues asked me my Twitter handle and a while after that one of my students wrote an essay about it, and eventually I saw tweets posted on Facebook. Still, I didn't become active on Twitter until last year in March when Twitter sent me a ten-year anniversary reminder.

By then I was living in the woods and was pleasantly socially distanced from everyone I knew. I thought it might not be a bad idea to learn how Twitter works. I was working on my memoir and decided I should find other writers on Twitter. I didn't know anything about the writing community. I joined and several nice people in the community gave me tips and helped me connect with others. Today, I'm grateful for the friends I've found in the writing community on Twitter. I won't name you, but you know who you are.