Rant of a confident introvert

Pinterest has a pushy little agenda regarding introverts. Apparently, we’re all supposed to be hiding in our houses crying over deep poetry and wearing snuggies. The UPS guy dropped off  a package? SCREEEEEEEEEECH!!!!! FLEE TO THE BASEMENT! THERE’S A HUMAN AT THE DOOR!!!! Because we all know that all introverts are these sensitive, easily startled, wise, little creatures who hide in trees with iPhones, sharing crap like “People think that I don’t notice when they stop texting. But I notice everything…………”

Really? I guess that I’m a sucky introvert. I’m not a quivering mess of social anxiety and deep feelings. I’m not “Ohhhh NOOOOO! Another person! Hide me!!”

No. Just no.

It’s more like seeing someone who I know in the grocery store and praying like an Israelite in the desert that they won’t effing recognize me. Not because talking to people freaks me out. Because talking to an acquaintance involves a crapload of small-talk and “How are you?!!!”, blah blah blah, whyyyyyyy?! Insincere conversations are annoying. PEOPLE ARE NEEDY!!

Want to know why I love my job so much? I do not have friends at my job. I do not have people who want to socialize and chat. I do not have people who care about me there. I do not have people who are interested in knowing what I did that weekend. I do not have people who are interested in me AT ALL. It’s fabulous!!! Yes, my brother works there too, but we leave each other alone unless he wants to say something funny. I work in a warehouse where my primary job is to get inventory onto a cart for orders. I can pop in my earbuds and let my resting bitch face shine like a star! Nobody talks to me for hours. Bliss bliss bliss.

I am not “Ohhh nooooo. People are judging me! People will think that I’m weird if I talk to them!! Ohhh deaaaar! People are sooooo complicated!!!”

More like “F*ck. Why are you talking to me?”

You know that whole “Smile!!! Keep someone from offing themselves today by flashing a smile!!” chant that gets encouraged almost daily on Facebook. No. Please no. Want to know how you can make my day? Ignore me. I’m serious. I am not a fragile little boat of emotions in need of validation by some person commanded to try and make strangers happy. No. Smiling at me results in one of two things:

  1. I feel like I have to smile back. Thus breaking whatever train of thought I had because I have to figure out what kind of smile is too big for this random occurrence. You have burdened me with have to do a muscle exercise for you! I don’t even know you!! Don’t make me do mouth pushups because some stupid-ass meme told you that I would spend the rest of my day prancing in roses because you smiled! Please don’t burden me with your joy!!!!! I swear on my right hand that I will not be offended if we pretend like we don’t know each other. Would that be okay with you?
  2. I don’t smile back. Then I feel like a dick because I really didn’t want to, but you’ll probably go home and cry because your random Internet wisdom for the day didn’t work. Or something. I don’t friggin know.


This is why I don’t have many friends. Seriously. I don’t have many. And that doesn’t bother me at all. It’s less people to deal with. I view relationships like plants. I only have so much water in my watering can. I can either give a few special little plants plenty of water, or I can use a ton watering each little plant, have to go back in the house to refill my can, then come back out and keep watering stuff. Motto of my life is: Please don’t give me more sh*t to do!!

My best friend lives across the country. We text each other a few times a week. She is super low maintenance. Anytime we talk, we don’t say “Hey. How are you?” It’s more like “Why are people so stupid?” “Ooooh! STORY TIME!!!” Then we complain about people and talk about women’s rights or adoption or obesity at Walmart or how she’s going to make a zebra cake later, while changing topics every three texts because we don’t care.Then we forget to text each other back for like four days, and it’s whatever.

If I tell her that I’m having a sucky day, she’ll usually say “Okay?” If I feel like going into more detail, she’ll empathize. If I don’t feel like it, she doesn’t bring it up again. We don’t passive aggressively hope that the other person pries information out of us. We ain’t got time for that.

I’m an introvert. And people don’t make sense to me. They think that they’re all unique and special and complicated and full of hopes and dreams…….just like every other person to walk this planet. I understand why they do things, but don’t understand why the ef they would choose to do those things. I get that brains are nothing more than chemicals and neurons firing to give people different feelings and motives. I understand people from an evolutionary perspective. I’m trying to educate myself better as to understand them from a medical and chemical perspective. I understand their patterns of behavior. Because that’s the only way that I can make sense of people. And I’m 100% sure that there are many people who share that point of view with me.

I noticed that when I got rid of my Android and got a flip phone, most people quit talking to me. It wasn’t one of those “WELL THEN!! PROVES WHO MY REEEEEEEEEEEAL FRIENDS ARE!” No. Most people don’t have my number and flip phones don’t have Facebook Messenger. And I purposely got a phone that was extremely inconvenient to text with. My world became much more quiet. And oh! It’s been great. Do I mind people messaging me to talk? No. So long as it’s real. Nothing bugs me more than this crap:

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Not much. You?”

ETC. ETC. ETC. Come to me with purpose!!! If you have a question or want to talk, I’m down. But don’t make me drag it out of you! I’ve had a few friends message me with personal questions, hoping that my situation might be able to help them. Totally cool with that. They just put it all out there. And it’s not like there’s much that I hide in regards to my personal life. I put tons of personal stuff out on here because I don’t care if people know it. It’s not like my life is some big, intimate secret that only those who TRULY know me have the privilege of knowing. No. I get pissed off. I blog about it. I have a word to say about people’s dumb habits. I blog about it. I push a baby out of my vagina. I blog about it!

I’m not a self-conscious, sensitive introvert. I do not care what most people on this planet think about me. And I don’t mean that in the “I’m so unconventional and cool! I don’t care what you think but secretly I do, which is why I’m on-board with all of these “unpopular” fads that are actually popular because everyone else thinks that they’re unique too and too afraid of being perceived as a bigot!”

My employer signs my paycheck, so I work my tail off. Damon and I are married and stuck with each other till forever, so I usually try to be a somewhat pleasant person for at least 52% of the day. Maybe even my parents because they’re pretty rad people who still invest in me. Everyone else? Nahhhh. Screw ’em. I can’t take their opinions to the bank. Their opinions don’t pay for textbooks. Their opinions don’t do anything but float around in the skull for maybe 0.03% of the day.

I am a firm believer that nobody thinks about me unless they live with me. And even then, it’s probably not often. It’s wonderful. It’s liberating. Nobody thinks about me. People have better things to think about than me. And I don’t say that with some petty “I’m not worth much” attitude. Seriously. People have more important things to think about than some chick who never talks to them. My babies think about me because I’m the center of their universe for now. Well, Ty does anyway. My boobs are like his sun and moon…Haha….Dangit. Just made myself giggle. Haven has become a total daddy’s girl. Again, it’s liberating to not have anybody think of you.

Maybe I have deep thoughts. I don’t know. I don’t have time to reflect on what a deep, unique, special-snowflake I am. I don’t have time to ponder what great and marvelous thoughts I have in comparison to other people. What do other people think about? I’m not clairvoyant! I listen to audiobooks on evolution because it’s fun. That doesn’t make me a smarty-pants or special in any way. Thinking about the future and past of mankind doesn’t make me special. Being annoyed by people doesn’t make me superior. It’s just how I am. Nobody else cares. That’s fine. End of story.

Am I depressed? Yeah. Trying to work on it too. Does that make me creative and overflowing with deep thoughts? NO! I HATE the glamorization of mental illness more than I hate the presidential candidates! Suffering from depression, anxiety, etc. does not make you more interesting or creative than anybody else. Your taste in music does not set you apart either. It is just a thing. It is perfectly fine to be a normal, functioning human being. People who hold your normal against you are idiots. Everyone has something wrong with them. Don’t try making up problems and issues because you think that they make you superior to us “normal” people. How the hell does that even make sense? It doesn’t. Stop it.

If you’re an introvert who is shy and whatnot, that’s fine. If you’re an extrovert who loves to live big and smile wide, GREAT! FABULOUS! Host a party! Just do you and nail it!

Don’t stereotype all introverts as these mousy little bookworms who don’t like to go outside. This ain’t Fifty Shades of Grey! Nothing magical happens to you just because you identify as an introvert. Some kinky billionaire does not come sweep me off my feet just because I don’t like talking to people! There is not some glowing aura surrounding your head. Being an introvert does not make you special.

Hmmm…..I wonder how much of my personality comes from being an introvert or being an arrogant douchebag…Questions…questions…questions…Lemme go ponder this ultra-deep thought under a blanket somewhere…

Some introverts are pissy and opinionated. That is all.

Rant over.






Rant of a confident introvert

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