Ugh. Some days I really hate being an introvert.  I should be excited to see two people I haven’t seen in years, and instead I’m really, really looking forward to the moment when I get to go home and curl up in a ball with a blanket and a cup of tea and just not do anything for a while, even though I should really vacuum and clean up the kitchen and do some laundry. Why the fuck can’t I be put together to get energy from talking to people instead of being supplied with about half the social life battery I should have given that I’m not even thirty yet? Why can’t I just be fucking normal instead of needing sunlight to be even halfway functional and needing so much freaking alone time just to recharge that it’s actually a bit ridiculous?