My senior year in high school, a friend’s mother was having us play a charades game where you’re given a description of yourself and act it out as the other people in the church group tried to guess. Mine was wallflower. And maybe it’s a testament to how much of a wallflower I am when I say I had no idea what a wallflower was, let alone how to act it out.
I had this friend, J—, who had transferred in that year. He has that sort of natural good looks and handsome charm that girls just go for, but had the misfortune of being placed in our top math class.
(Oh sure, that’s a good thing if you wanted a 5 in your Calculus BC Advanced Placement exam, but it probably didn’t help the very much if you are a social animal like J—.)
I think we only became friends because one day in class I was really tired and started to rub my eyes in a manner he thought funny. My recovery was saying that this was an ancient oriental secret and he should start rubbing his eyes that way also and then he’d start getting better grades in the class. Sure, a side effect is that his eyes might change and his hair might darken like mine, but it’d be worth it.
[About J— and me at parties after the jump.]
Well, in any case, since J— didn’t know anyone else, he dragged me to “the cool Homecoming party” that year under the excuse that I actually dragged him to it. That was the only party I had ever been to in high school—if you don’t count the week my parents went on a vacation and my brother got busted by the cops. (Now, it’s not like I’m complaining. Especially when all the girls are saying things to me like, “Terry! You’re at a party!” *flash cute smile* “want a beer?”—though that’s probably because they thought I was friends with J—. I’m just trying to convince you I really am the “wallflower” whatever-the-heck-that-meant through and through: the geek who never went to prom, only went to a party by accident, and probably said eight words his entire life to those cute girls and five of them were “Umm… No thanks… gotta go.”)
Now maybe someone might say that I’ve just changed or it’s a-social-fish-in-a-geek-pool thing, but I don’t feel any different and I’ve always been a geek. So when someone at work pointed out that they once heard that introversion/extroversion was about “how you recharge your batteries,” it started to make sense.
Extroverts recharge their batteries in social settings. Introverts recharge their batteries alone.
If I am a “social butterfly” than this social butterfly needs to go back into his cocoon. For me, there is nothing more refreshing than losing a day to a book you couldn’t put down. There is nothing more productive then sneaking into work on a Saturday or Sunday when nobody is there. (Heck, I’m blogging this because I know nobody is reading this. 😀 ) And when “my batteries are low,” you’ll probably see me at a party standing against the wall, pretending to mess with my iPhone.
How do you recharge your batteries?