A few months ago, my wife looked at me like I had three heads. It was the middle of the afternoon, and we hadn’t been out long, just an hour so with a few close friends, but I was done. I was fried.
I was tired from a busy week and had reached my limit. Like one of our kids when they were toddlers, I was cranky and was ready to head home. I wanted a cold drink, maybe a snack, and a nap with my blanky.
Oh, I wasn’t that bad, but I was ready. I gave my wife a look and she gave me one back. You know the kind, the one that no one else can tell the meaning, but you know meaning intimately. We were like two little kids sticking out our tongues each other when no one was looking.
Her look said: “You can’t be serious. We haven’t even been out that long.”
My look said: “Stuff it. I’m done and I’m taking my ball and going home. Live with it.”
When we had a quiet moment with just the two of us, my wife asked why I was upset. “You have to ask,” I said. She got the message instantly: I was done socializing.
I love being around others, but I have my moments when I’m all peopled out. I’ve written about being an introvert in the past. I have both extrovert and introvert traits, but if I had to choose, I would most certainly fall in the introversion camp. I tend to favor smaller group settings and, recover best, the more time I have to myself.
With the busy week too, I hadn’t had much time to recover. I had spent the day in a bunch of meetings and desperately needed the chance to wind down. Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be the case.
I’m a lucky one though. My wife gets me. We gently excused ourselves and left a short time later and I was soon back to feeling myself. In a matter of a few minutes, I went from the end of the world is coming to calmer than a gentle dove.
Yes, I was back to being in my happy place. May we all have that.