One of "Those People" Part II

So here I am. It's a Saturday, and I am at home with plenty -- and I mean PLENTY -- to keep me occupied. My house is stuffed beyond belief with crap I don't need or want anymore. I have laundry to do. Summer clothes to store (and trash) and fall clothes to wash and hang up (and trash), a bed to assemble, a bedroom to rearrange, a litterbox to clean out, a dishwasher to empty, a floor to vacuum, groceries to buy, bills to pay...the list is endless.

But it's Saturday. And I could have gone to a movie tonight. But I rescheduled for tomorrow because I'm stressed over how much I want to get done. And I'm paralyzed.

And while I would feel oh-so-much better digging in and getting it done -- or at least make some decent progress, I feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin.

Because I am here. In my gilded cage. Alone.

I remember being in my 20s -- even in my early 30s -- looking forward to spending time alone, getting stuff done. I'd revel in spending an entire weekend rearranging my living room, moving pictures around, painting, whatever. I didn't need to go out very much. One or two nights a month was plenty. My home was my haven.

Now it feels more like a prison. For the past, say, four years, any period of time at home that exceeds two hours (unless I'm sleeping) leaves me feeling anxious and cut off from the rest of the world. I feel as if life is passing me by if I'm not out and about doing something with someone.

I don't know what my problem is. I was at my reunion last weekend. I'm going to a cabin in the mountains with friends next weekend. Just last night, I attended my first-ever NASCAR race. Life is definitely not passing me by. Skipping out on a movie with a friend won't kill me. But I swear, I feel like it will.

And it doesn't help that I miss Mr. G. I can't even call him because he doesn't have a phone yet. He doesn't have an Internet connection yet, at least one that's reliable. He is sometimes able to hop onto a free wifi connection from one of his neighbors and call me that way.

I just like having someone around. I remember looking down on people who were like that...who were rendered virtually useless if they were forced to spend any time with their own company.

Yet again, I have become one of "those people." And I hate it.

OB