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On being anti-social…

My wife’s (Irene) parents came over from Victoria to visit this past weekend. Irene’s Aunt from Zimbabwe was also here, staying at Judith’s (Irene’s *other* aunt) home. Simultaneously, friends from Edmonton (Hi, Janet and Gord!) were in town.

Right off the bat, anyone who really knows me will realize that all these people, despite the fact I love them all, are a problem for me. You see, I’m anti-social…

I’ve trained myself through years of practice to not visibly panic when faced with a social situation. Now I safely internalize all of that uncertainty and fear. Well, more or less safely…

I’ve trained myself through years of practice to not visibly panic when faced with a social situation. Now I safely internalize all of that uncertainty and fear. Well, more or less safely…

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not like some people who go off the deep end in a social situation. I do okay. I just am not a “natural”, and when its all over, I feel like I’ve done something very strenuous…like the Grouse Grind…twice…wearing a 50 kilogram pack.

So now the house is quiet. The visiting is done, the uncomfortable silences when I wonder if I should say something, the awkward moments when I’m not sure whether a handshake or a hug is in order, and end up doing both and bonking my head or something…all of those little things the socially inept like myself worry about. Funny thing is, I sort of miss all the people…

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