…so do I.
The invitation arrived a couple of weeks ago. It verified news I had heard a week earlier. A long-time teacher friend had retired and there would be a party to celebrate the occasion. I had been a bit surprised to hear of the retirement, months after one would normally announce their retirement, only a week before a new school year began. Those in education know this is a bad time to announce one’s leaving as it makes the principal scramble to find a replacement and usually means the class will start with a substitute teacher. Actually, this is how I got my job at the inner city high school, but being credentialed in the subject, I was allowed to keep the position. Most teacher candidates, though, have already found a job and are settled in by the start of school.
So, the invitation comes, for a party that will be held late in September, late in the evening, on the other side of the valley, at a residence of people I don’t know. I laid it aside, contemplating the whole situation, but especially vexed by the date and time. As I stated at the beginning, I don’t do well late in the day, and especially after sunset. My extrovert personality only works until about 4 p.m., going off the clock when my introvert self shows up. And I use the term show up lightly. The introvert sort of sidles in, preferring no one see her, and if no one says anything to her, she sits mute and still. Certainly not a party personality.
This has been slowly coming on over the years. I used to have no problem going out at 8 p.m. and having a good time until midnight. Now, by 8 p.m. I am done for the day and heading for bed with my book. A couple of months ago we attended a backyard dinner at a friend’s house only a few blocks away. Although pleasant enough as I came onto the scene, I didn’t talk much, didn’t mingle, and by 8 o’clock I had slid down into my chair, ready to head home, which fortunately was only 5 minutes away. It just felt so wrong, though, because that behavior annoys my extrovert personality that shows up every the morning. That persona comes in the door talking, finding friends to greet and new people to meet. I offer to help with the food or service. I talk with different groups, moving around as the mood strikes. I don’t get stuck in one place. The extrovert doesn’t slink down in her chair, trying to disappear, hoping no one says a word to her.
The quandary is what to do with the invitation. In early morning, when I am typing this, I am gung-ho to go to this event, find out why the retiree made her decision so late in the summer (I just know there must be a good reason), chat with people I may not have seen in awhile or even met, eat some delicious food at a venue I’ve never been…then by late afternoon I know this will not happen. Ms Extrovert, who would do all those things, will have checked out hours before the party is scheduled to begin. Ms Introvert will sidle in and will be a party-poop.