Optimistic Introvert

During this time of staying at home a lot, I hope you have a resident Optimistic Introvert. We have one in the house, and he comes in a two metre package of relentless cheerfulness and an extraordinary ability to amuse himself. Perhaps said Introvert is simply smug the world’s new normal has finally caught up to his old normal, and as a devoted practitioner of self-isolating prior to Coivid-19, he has his game plan whilst cooped up at home. .

Just to be clear, the Introvert is Hubbie and not me. In isolation, I’ve discovered I’m an irreparable extrovert. My relationship with him is akin to the game of tetherball. (If you don’t know, YouTube). Guess which one is the pole? He sits peacefully on the sofa reading; decidedly confident and secure to be a pole, giving little thought as to what other poles are doing. Then, around the pole, is the orbiting ball. That’s me. “Thwack” to the right, “thwack” to the left. I sit next to him on the sofa. I move across to the armchair. I throw a pillow at him. It’s a painful, restless type of #poledance, but not at all the sexy kind.

As I monologue, Hubbie meticulously prepares breakfast for the family. “Darling should I set up a zoom with my Princeton friends, and see how they are in the States.” “Can you please pass me a bowl for the eggshells?” “What about your clients?” I pester. “Have you contacted each one - this is the best time to build the relationship.” “Let’s see, do you think Savannah would want back bacon or turkey bacon?” “I just heard the girls met for dinner last night! Gutted I didn’t make the group of four.” “This avocado is ripe, the smash is going to taste perfect with salt and lemon.” .

At the end of this conversation, I have managed to circulate hot air and nonsense, and The Pole has created five delicious breakfast sandwiches, before happily settling into yet another board game of Blokus. The Introverts are winning at this game, and given the protracted length of self-isolation, will clearly be the season winners.