Running On Empty

By the end of the week, I am running on empty. The exhaustion hits around Thursday, right smack dab in the middle of my week, and it's a fight to get past it. It's as if my brain juices turn to tar, making moving and thinking more difficult, until eventually the tar hardens and the gears stop turning completely rendering my mental functionality a big fat zero. *Insert awesome robot powering down sound here*. Okay, but why am I so tired? 

Well, my mother would probably ask me if I am depressed. The answer is 'no'. I am not now, nor have I ever been depressed. Sure, I've had some really good cry fests and self pity parties, but incredibly sad doesn't mean depressed. Not in my world, at least.

The simple fact is, my job is too much for my brain, and it isn't difficult. Actually, that makes it sound as though it is easy. It isn't. Not really. But what I mean is, I'm not a rocket scientist or mathematician. I don't crunch numbers or solve crimes. And there isn't much heavy lifting or hammer swinging involved. Even worse, it isn't because I am conjuring up the magical formula to cure world hunger, and I am not toiling over ways to create world peace. Trust me, if I had either I'd be handing them over pronto. So, if I don't have a physically or mentally taxing job, then why is getting through a five day work week so tedious? I mean, millions of people the world over work full time hours and still manage to have a social life, get chores done, and raise children. 

What the hell is my problem? 

Well, this might sound weird, but it's because I talk to people. Every day, I interact with over a dozen people, sometimes more. This is a lot of work for my poor, little, introverted brain. Sometimes people disagree with me when I tell them I an introverted. It's as if they expect introverts to be unable to function around people, but that isn't the case at all. In fact, we actually like being around people ... just not all the time. Certainly not every day. For hours at a time. Conversing. Engaging. Canoodling. 

Okay, I don't canoodle with everyone, I've been wanting to use that word for a really long time, though, and it never comes up in conversation. 

Back to the point of this post. For over a year now, I've greeted, chatted, and helped hundreds of people. Every client that comes through the door interacts with me in some way. At the beginning of the week, my battery is full, but throughout the day each of these encounters with people zaps a little life out of me. At the end of the day, I go home with every intention of recharging, but I never get enough alone time to fully reboot. When the next day arrives - far too soon, I might add - my battery is a little less powerful than the day before. So, by the time the end of the week comes, I'm starting my day virtually on empty. And I am ending the day 100% drained. Think about your smartphone and how wonky it starts performing when you're only at 10%.  

I am grateful that I know myself well enough to understand what I need to exist happily and healthily in this world. Unfortunately, I am an introvert doing an extroverted job. It is one thing to be aware of such things, it is another to not be able to do anything about. For the most part, I like my job, at least at the beginning of the week, but just because I like it doesn't mean I can do it long term. I do worry what may happen down the road and wonder if I am journeying towards burning out.  

Now, don't misunderstand what I am saying. When I come home at night, though tired, I am happy. I am grateful to have a Sidekick who understands what being an introvert is all about. I revel in my little slice of quiet rural living. The reason why I am putting this out there is because I worry there are people like me, who are in the same energy draining boat, who might be thinking there is something wrong. Sometimes we feel alone and it's nice to know there are others out there like us, with the same sort of struggle. You aren't shy or anti-social, you aren't depressed or unhealthy - all you need is time to recharge. 

You're just an introvert in a world that won't shut up. 

I Turn Myself Off

Straight off the bat, I feel the need to address the misleading factor of the title to this post. While it completely makes sense, and certainly pertains to what I am about to say, the sexual undertones, or anti-sexual undertones, are many. I just wanted you know that I know it is deceptive. And also, I don't care.

Work exhausts me. Not my body. My body can keep going after work, but my brain is completely wiped out. I don't have a very cerebral job, either. So, why am I so tired? 

It's because I am 'on' at work. I am constantly talking, listening, understanding and trying to problem solve. I am aware of my surroundings and the people within it. These greetings and conversations, some small and uneventful, others deeper and more important, are draining for me. Don't be mistaken. I enjoy them. Well, for the most part I do, the particularly querulous bride I dealt with this morning certainly wasn't the highlight of my day. Still, I do love interacting with others. I genuinely am interested in the things they have to say, what is going on in their lives, and I appreciate the small glimpses I get into these people's existences.

But while I do like conversing and teasing and engaging with others, I am not equipped to do it all day, then go out and do it in the evening. Communicating with people doesn't energize me. 

In fact, it does the opposite. It drains me. 

At the beginning of the day, my battery is full and I am ready to tackle the next eight hours. But, as time passes, as I encounter more people, with each smile, greeting, telephone call, I become weaker. My energy gets used up. Until five o'clock comes around and I am mental-weary, dog-tired, and plum exhausted. At this point, I cannot fathom speaking to another living soul (except animals and the Sidekick). The idea alone of going out for dinner with colleagues or meeting up with friends for drinks is enough to send me to the brink of insanity. After a day of work, I am done. So, I toddle off home, where I can recharge myself for another day. 

People often confuse this need to be alone, this desire for solitude and appreciation of quite as antisocial behaviour, or not being friendly. This isn't the case at all. There just needs to be a certain amount of mental preparation for me in order to socialize on my own time. It does happen. I DO go out, from time to time, but it isn't a daily, or even weekly occurrence. Why? A lot of it comes down to being aware of what I need in order to stay happy and healthy. Because I have to engage at work every single day, I know I must keep my evenings and most of my weekends to myself (and the Sidekick, who thankfully understands how I work-sorta, kinda, maybe). 

On my own time, I turn myself off. 

This is where it might get baffling for some people. I don't need to be at home to turn myself off. I can be many different places  like the theatre, beach, or out in the forest. Anywhere I can be where I don't have to engage with others. Sometimes people walk by my yard when I am gardening and stop to chat. I have to turn myself on for these wandering souls, but it's okay, because I know they are going to go away eventually. For those five minutes I talk to them, I enjoy their company, but I relish the sight of them walking away. 

For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me because of these behaviours. There isn't, though. I'm just introverted. It's hard for people to understand. How can someone who vlogs and blogs be an introvert? How can someone who is a receptionist be introverted? How can I go out and enjoy people's company and still call myself an introvert? Well, because I am one, and a lot people haven't a clue what being an introvert actually means. 

What I am grateful for is friends and family who understand my ways and my need for downtime. I am lucky I don't have to be turned on with the Sidekick. He doesn't require me to engage with him. We have our life. Our routine. We chat and laugh and act stupid, but I can be 'off' while doing so. This is probably because he himself has introverted tendencies. I am happy I don't have to worry about what I say around him. Well, okay, I kind of do, because he is a Cancer, but for the most part, he doesn't mind the way I am. 

And I don't mind the way I am either. 

And this made me laugh. 

Wasabi Eye

Since moving to Vancouver Island, I have cultivated only a handful of friendships. By a handful, I mean no more than five and most likely around three. Don't get me wrong. I'm friendly with a lot more people, it's just hard for me to bridge the gap between 'being friendly' and 'being friends'. Maybe because I think things should unfold organically and, though it may come as a shock, I'm actually fairly introverted and, even more telling, I have a fondness for being a lone.

Because I work and interact with the public every day, I don't need anymore time with 'people'. After hours and on weekends, I go home and read, write, edit, do a puzzle, bake, knit or watch bad television. This is in fact ideal for me. Going out once a month isn't a problem for me because I'm a low key lady with a predilection for being alone. Also, I really like my Sidekick, so when I'm at home with him, I feel as if I am with a friend and socializing.

Still, it's nice to have a friend or two in real life, other than the Sidekick, that I can chat with and knit silly things for. So, in an effort to be more social, I had a date with two feisty females last Friday. We had sushi, watched Divergent (it wasn't the worst movie ever) and went to The Whistle Stop for drinks. No worries, I stuck to water with a bit of lemon and didn't force myself on anyone unwilling.

It was nice and very revealing.

See, by some weird twist of events, I ended up with wasabi in my eye. The right one, if you must know. Now, I was wearing glasses and a hat and I can't honestly tell you how it happened, but I'm pretty sure magic was involved. All I can say for certain was it hurt like all kinds of hell. If I had of been alone, this would have been a horrible memory for me shudder over in the future. I would have had to stumble to the bathroom, probably ram into the table of the people behind me, and chances are I would have tripped and fallen flat on my wasabi stinging face.

As it was, I had friends with me. One of those beautiful individuals took it upon herself to help me clean the wasabi globs out from under my eye and off my lashes, while I remained seated. Oh, don't think I was composed. The tears were flowing and whines came forth.

There is a lesson in this story. Don't eat sushi alone. Or maybe that it is nice to have friends.

Did you know wasabi looks like this? 

I always thought it looked like this pretty flower of green paste. 

And did you know there are wasabi Kit Kat bars? 

Yeah, I'm not sure how I feel about this either.