I am an introspective introvert. Despite my outgoing facade, I dwell a great deal within the depths of my own brain. I've been like this for as long as I can remember.
As a child, I think I was often happiest when I was alone with my daydreams. That's not to say that I didn't have friends and didn't enjoy time spent with my friends; I just enjoyed time to myself, as well.
I'm still an introspective person. I'd rather listen to a conversation than participate in it; I enjoy hearing other people's thoughts, opinions, and stories. Of course, I sometimes hold back to much and avoid saying things that probably should be said out loud.
I tend to bottle things up and just let them explode.
I think I'm on the cusp of an explosion. I need a break, and I just can't seem to get it lately. Last night was pretty good; I was able to just relax and be an introvert for an hour or two. It was nice to dwell in my own mind for a little while, to think and dream and contemplate. It was nice to have time to be creative without interruption.
It was nice not to feel crushed under the weight of adult responsibilities.
But then 4:00a.m. hit. That seems to be my witching hour, when I wake, wide-eyed and alert, feeling the weight of the world crushing down on my chest.
So now I sit, staring out the window at the falling snow, hoping beyond hope that the weather reports are wrong and that we'll get enough snowfall for an early dismissal today and a day off tomorrow. Knowing that neither is likely to happen.
Sheesh. I need to get out of this funk...