Sometimes I think the everyday stuff isn’t that exciting or that important, but then I realize that it’s good for me to document it.
Yesterday was one of those perfect fall Saturdays. It was nice and rainy. I got up and cleaned, I hit the gym, and then I ran some errands. I picked up a Crock-Pot. I topped off my windshield wiper fluid. I restocked on some groceries, including a very necessary tasty local pumpkin ale. Then I came home, made some delicious soup (try it – it’s delicious), and enjoyed that same beer while watching some college football and doing some domestic stuff around my place.
The flip side of that is how I choose to spend my time. It occurred to me yesterday during all of that activity that I’ve become somewhat of a solitary person. Don’t get me wrong – I’m great in groups, even if I kind of hate being in crowds. I spent Friday after work at a Final Friday happy hour with co-workers, an event I set up and manage. I work with people quite a bit as a function of my job, and I am good at it. I have a lot of friends. But in the past couple of years, I’ve felt a change in my behavior. I’d rather be at home on a Saturday night like last night than out drinking with friends. I don’t mind having a little company, but it’s definitely a more exclusive group that gets the invite these days.
I don’t know if it’s a sign of me getting older or just pickier about the people with whom I choose to spend my time. I’m a private person. When I choose to go out to events or parties, it’s a good time. But the number of people I’ll allow into my home or my daily life is very small. I’m not sure what caused this shift, and at first I thought it meant there was something wrong with me. But when I went to bed last night, I was pretty satisfied with my day. I do whatever I want. I make time for the things that I want. If I want to sit around drinking beer in my boxers, I do it.