Where's My Hamster?

I have a problem that most people, particularly mothers of young children, seem to suffer from. It's usually not too debilitating, but occasionally it makes every day activities next to impossible to perform.

Brain Fog.

It's not that it feels like my brain shuts down, it's more that it keeps moving, but it's not doing anything. "The wheel is spinning, but the hamster is clearly missing," or something to that effect. It really does feel like a fog, and I wander around the house aimlessly trying to figure out what I am supposed to be doing.

When it gets really bad, I can't even read. That's hard for a bookworm like myself to deal with. If you can't read, what can you do?

The other night it was even so bad I could barely do laundry. Almost like I was forgetting how to  fold clothes. This is not normal. At least, this extreme case is not normal.

What is normal is for me to lose my train of thought half-way through what I was saying. This is why I really try to rely on outlining when I write. Otherwise I just ramble and make very little sense. (I did outline this post; I hope it actually helps.)

It's very common for me, and has been for years, to forget a point I wanted to make in an online post after clicking the send button. I apologize to anyone if I miss a question when responding to comments. I promise I'm not doing it on purpose.

So, does anyone else find themselves suffering from this mental wandering? If so, what do you do to cope with it? I've figured out outlining for my writing, but what about other instances, like answering a list of questions, or attempting to do household chores?

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I Hugged a Stranger

I was hugged today by a stranger today. And I was OK with it. I participated in the hug, even. Bizarre, I know. I'm usually very reserved with strangers, but let me back up.

I was on my way home from the wonderful experience that is Walmart the week before Christmas and I decided to stop by a little health food store that I've noticed. The owner is a lady in her 70s that looks and acts like she's in her 50s. Seriously. I was shocked when she told me how old she was.

What drew me into the store was the advertisement for coffee and tea on the window. I was hoping for a local source for loose-leaf tea that wasn't Lipton. Alas, no such luck, but I did find an hour long conversation that had me leaving feeling better about the world and just generally encouraged.

This is what makes the idea that introverts are shy so ridiculous. I'm not shy. Shy and introverted are not even close to the same thing. I was fascinated by this new person that answered my questions with far more information than most people would desire. I'm not most people, so hearing about the history of homeopathy made me feel almost as excited about a conversation about physics with my dad.

The next thing I knew I was sharing some of my personal beliefs with her, then she's telling me about a motorcycle accident she had had. Somewhere around the point in the conversation where we were discussing church doctrines being Biblically based I started feeling like I wanted to hug her before I left. There was a connection there that I wanted to affirm physically I guess.

I was in a quandary on how to do it, though. I am not naturally touchy-feely with virtual strangers. The lady dispelled the awkwardness I felt when she initiated the hug herself. It was nice, and it seems strange to me now that it did. This is not a normal reaction for me. It felt natural at the time, though, so I feel that it was the right thing.

I doubt this will become a habit, though. It's much easier to just smile at strangers. It's less exhausting, too. As much as I enjoyed our conversation, I needed some down-time to process afterward. So I had some coffee and a book like a good little introvert.


Want to read more about my introverted misadventures?
Check out these posts:

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
Talking To Myself
Shhhh...I'm Introverting

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Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

I love my friends. Really I do. It's probably easier to tell when I am actually with them, though. Since most of my friends live at a distance from me, you would think that I talk with them on the phone, or text to keep in touch. I'll be honest. I don't. Not even my best friends will override my intense dislike of phone calls. The most they might get is a text. Usually not even that.

Fortunately, they don't seem to mind. We just wait until we are back together and then spend the next eight hours catching up on everything. Let me tell you, talking for that long will wear your voice out.

It does make me wonder, though. I know that I myself am a low-maintenance friend. I don't require a great deal of time and effort to feel secure that we are still friends. What I question is if I somehow managed to collect a circle of friends that are the same way, or if this is maybe not as unusual as I might have once thought. Maybe it's a combination of the two factors.

Or maybe these friends feel that I am extremely fickle and are simply far too polite to complain about my apparent neglect.

I used to email a couple of good friends on a fairly regular basis. This was back when people would actually print out emails to save them. I probably still have them in a folder somewhere among my childhood things. While I don't feel quite as close to one of these friends due to no longer keeping in constant contact, I still feel that old bond, and were she to suddenly call or want to hang out, I'd be all over it. After I got over my anxiety from an unexpected phone call, that is.

Email seems to have gone out of fashion, though. Instead we have texting and Facebook. I'm finding Facebook more and more impersonal, and I don't really think I like it. I've gotten to the point that I share very few pictures and even fewer statuses updating my friends about my life. I have been using it to post links to the blog, though. Maybe that will satisfy someone.

The one and only reason I can come up with for why I do not text my friends--unless I don't have their phone number--is that I am terrified that I will text at an inconvenient time. I realize, logically, that that is exactly what texting is for. They can read and reply later if I send at an inconvenient time. But there you have it. I'm paralyzed because I don't want to make someone else uncomfortable. I really need to work on that.

So...more social anxiety from me, and I think I've said enough for now about my love/hate relationship with communicating via cellphone.


Want to read more about my introverted misadventures?
Check out these posts:

I Hugged a Stranger
Talking To Myself
Shhhh...I'm Introverting

Talking To Myself

I have a confession to make. I have a habit that developed in childhood that seems to have only gotten worse as I age. Sweetie finally said something about it last week, and called it creepy. I've tried to stop, really I have. It really seems impossible. I know I'm not the only one that does this, but...

I talk to myself.

A lot.

I think this behavior falls into one of three categories. Either I'm thinking out loud, running through scenes for stories out loud, or I'm practicing conversations for the future.

I'm pretty sure that most people at some point in their lives have spoken their thoughts aloud. There's benefits to hearing something spoken. It can sound just fine in your head, but once it actually hits your ears, you realize how stupid it is. These are cases when talking aloud by yourself is a huge benefit. No one else needs to know that you were contemplating writing a musical about dancing flamingos in spandex pantsuits.

I've had the story I worked on for NaNo developing in my head for about four years now. There are four different stories within the story arc. That's a lot of scenes and quite a few characters. But I have other stories with other characters, too. That's a lot of people crowding up my thinking, and sometimes I just need an outlet. So, I talk to them; they talk back. It's fine until someone overhears you. I may need to put a Bluetooth headset in my ear permanently for when this happens in public.

That would actually help with the last one, too. I practice conversations before they happen. Maybe it's part of my introversion. Maybe it's unrelated social anxiety, but there are times when I feel more prepared for dealing with someone if I have practiced the conversation a few times to get a feel for how it is likely to go. Sometimes I know the conversation is inevitable, other times I'm practicing an unlikely-to-occur event for the fun of it--I've actually used those once or twice.

But then you get caught. I have been caught. It's embarrassing. Even though I'm not doing a single thing wrong, just a little weird. Should it really be called creepy, though. If I'm mumbling about killing someone, ok, yes. But simply complaining aloud about a talking cat that is too smug for his whiskers? That's not creepy…at least I hope it's not.

I am sincerely trying to at least be more aware of what I'm doing when I talk to myself. I've become hyper aware of just how much I do it. But I don't really want to quit because, let's face it, it's fun.


Want to read more about my introverted misadventures?
Check out these posts:

I Hugged a Stranger
Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
Shhhh...I'm Introverting