Despite my not-inconsiderable social-networking profile, I’m not really all that social, so this resonates rather strongly with me:
For someone like me, an afternoon alone feels more like a blessing than a curse. I’ve said to a colleague of mine before and I’m not quite sure he gets it that sometimes I “run out of words” and just need to be where I don’t have to talk to people or even, necessarily, be verbal at all. (That’s why I knit and quilt as a hobby. Oh, granted, you do need to read patterns for those, but a lot of the time you’re not dealing with words). And why most of the music I choose is instrumental. I mean, I love words I wouldn’t have a blog otherwise but sometimes I just run out of them. Or, more correctly, don’t feel like using them.
One of the reasons I tend to show up at the office around six-thirty is the fact that it will likely be an hour and a half before I actually have to talk to anyone. A lot can get done in those ninety uninterrupted minutes, and sometimes it actually does.
And those of us who have lived alone for many years, I think, are likely to be much more annoyed by People And Their Damned Interruptions than those with a full house and a low signal-to-noise ratio.