I could be wrong, but I don’t think of myself as typical. Boring, yes. Typical, no. I am an introvert, and though I know I am not the only one to fall into that category, I believe I take it to the extreme. An old friend of mine used to call me a hermit; I much prefer to stay in my shell. Truly, I could be a recluse. Give me a good book or television show, and I see little reason to leave my safe cocoon of home. Give me sweat pants or comfy pajamas, even better. It’s not like I feel compelled to dress to impress.
My mom worries that should something happen to her, I would be all alone, devoid of friends because my reclusiveness eventually turns people away. People ask me to do things, and though no fault of theirs, I find it difficult to engage. If you are my friend and actually see me outside of the house on a semi-regular basis, consider yourself special. I rarely even venture out to see family. I know; it’s weird, right?
Lately though, when mom has managed to drag me out (usually to a restaurant or casino), I have been acting very atypically. I’ve found myself talking to strangers. I am not usually the one to strike up conversation, but I haven’t been shrugging it off either. Mom says I now talk to people more than she does, and she is a complete extrovert. I think this unusual phenomenon is due to the fact that I am talking to strangers; I know I can interact and perhaps experience some stimulating conversation and then walk away. These strangers will make no future commitment on my time. I actually like to talk when I’m interested in the topic and feel I have something to say. In fact, family and close friends sometimes find it difficult to shut me up. How is it that I can exhibit these two contradictory traits, being both a hermit and a chatterbox? I think the answer must lie in the fact that I always talk a lot. I just usually talk to myself.
So I ask: am I typical or atypical? I’ll let you be the judge.