There is no such thing as too much alone time.
Dim lights are comforting, get over it. No, I don’t need more light in here.
Noise is the enemy. Not even necessarily loud ones, but quieter, persistent ones. Like people’s voices.
People are not evil. They don’t actually mean to hurt me or encroach on my boundaries deliberately (most of the time). They just can’t take a goddamn hint.
Introvert hints are so subtle, to other people they sometimes just look like blinking or breathing. This is a problem.
Social gatherings are not evil, but they’re overwhelming.
A minimum mental preparation time of no less than 12 hours is to be given before any form of social contact. This does not include sleep time.
Okay, 1,2,3,4, smile, say “Hello”, hand over card, pay, walk away calmly, heart rate is up, keep panic at bay, regulate breathing, don’t think about how you sounded when you just said “Hello”, just keep walking. Another successful interaction with a cashier!
Time to go to bed, or rather, time to replay every conversation of the day and agonize over how they could have gone better if I had just said something else/been funnier/been more confident/had not been in the middle of fleeing the building.
When used sparingly, Christmas lights will cheer you up.
Commenting on YouTube videos in your head counts as conversation.
Saturday night and we’re in the spot… on the sofa.
That moment when going into space and making contact with alien civilisations seems easier than leaving the house to buy milk.
More books than friends. More books than family members. More books than Facebook friend suggestions.
That moment when you buy something at a fancy, intimidating place and the guy at the counter was nice and you didn’t say anything stupid and inside you’re like: “I’M SO HAPPY, I CAN DO ANYTHING, I COULD PUNCH A BEAR, I COULD TALK TO A STRANGER ON THE BUS, GO ME, WOOOO!”