We visit others as a matter of social obligation. How long has it been since we have visited with ourselves?
~Morris Adler

This week I’ve been feeling insular, and basking in not-quite-solitude. I say “not-quite” because Fuzzy has been in the house, but mainly keeping to himself, in his office. I, on the other hand, have spent far too much time in bed, as it’s the only place I can comfortably support my knee, and still have easy access to the bathroom, internet, and television (though I’ve mainly been watching DVDs).

After the loss of the clippy thing for my ACE wrap, I tried walking without any support today. Bad idea. I tripped over the dogs more than once, slipped on the wet tile in the bathroom, and re-wrenched everything, resulting in the swallowing of vicodin (left over from a recent root-canal) and a return to bed. I slept a lot today, and wrote some, and read some lovely comforting TNG fanfic. It’s a series I’ve read before but that I really like.

I was invited to hang out with a friend, and part of me really wanted to, but the sensible part of my brain kicked in and realized I was really not fit to be in public. I’ve been whiny and grumpy – things I don’t like being – and just too tired to engage even in the most basic conversation.

The thing is…I quite like solitude. Oh, people are great, but I have a great need for significant amounts of alone-time. If I wasn’t in pain, I’d probably still be playing hermit this week, I’d just be more cheerful and more productive.

Maybe it’s because I’m an only child, or maybe it’s because for much of my life I was the only kid surrounded by adults, but I’m perfectly content inside my own head. I think that’s why I write – if I didn’t, I’d be schizophrenic – there are so many voices inside my brain, but I turn them all into characters and observations.

The same friend suggested yesterday (I think) that I should go do some people-watching, to break myself out of myself, and I responded that in my current mood people would merely piss me off. That wasn’t quite true, just the only way I could voice it. It would be more accurate to say that I was feeling the need to be insular, and that any people encountered would have felt overwhelming.

I don’t slip into this hermitish mood very often – at least, not this far into it – but when I do, it never lasts longer than a week.

Tomorrow is day three. We have plans in the evening. I hope I can find the energy to be sociable. I think prospects are good.