Yesterday, #2 daughter went back to the big city, The Empress and That Man came to visit, I did the grocery shopping, and #1 daughter arrived.
So I didn’t clean house or work or make things, but instead spent the day in conversation. I spoke to my girls frankly about the men they’re dating, they gave me firm talks about my and each other’s job situations, and we discussed the global economy, personality types and learning styles, and technology. That Man and The Empress and I shared job hunt stories. She’s been enjoying being a lady of leisure, but is ready now to return to the work world, and is getting herself used to the thought that she may need to do accounting.
Later in the evening, we played Scrabble, and #1 daughter and her daddy sat down for a heart to heart.
He doesn’t sound nearly as positive about the idea of moving when he talks to her as when he talks to me.
We changed our clocks. Well, not the physical clocks. The computer clocks changed, and that’s where I get the time. The other people in the house have alarm clocks, though, and we have a clock in the kitchen and one in the car and one in a bathroom. These will get changed gradually over the course of the day or week, and we’ll all be confused for a while, catching sight of a clock and wondering whether it has been changed or not. I find the time changes disorienting, for some reason.
Possibly because I don’t go around and change all the clocks the way I’m supposed to.
Among the discussions yesterday was the question of whether it is possible to change from being an introvert to an extrovert.
We know someone who believes that he has done so. However, knowing this person’s character, we are inclined to think that he has actually just made a successful effort to develop extremely good social skills. We question whether the I/E distinction is fluid.
However, I know that I’ve had difficulty in the past placing people, including myself, on the I/E continuum.
Part of that is because there are two kinds of people in the world: those who think there are two kinds of people, and those who don’t. I don’t.
#2 daughter is an obvious E. She’s highly gregarious, makes friends easily, and doesn’t like being alone. #2 son, also, never met a stranger, has been conspicuous for his leadership skills since the of three, and turns on the TV for company if there are fewer than four people in the room. My #1s are shy, make friends but don’t necessarily want to spend all their time with those friends, and hole up in their rooms sometimes. I’m talkative, enjoy being with people, make acquaintances easily though I don’t rush into friendships, and like being alone.
Of course, I’m almost never alone IRL, so I could be wrong about that.
But it seems to me that I am less clear a case than my kids. I once read a description of the I/E distinction that phrased it less in terms of what you like and more in terms of what gives you energy. If being with people is tiring and you have to have solitude to recharge, then you’re an I. If you get together with other people for energy and inspiration, then you’re an E. In those terms, I think I’m an E. My perfect workdays, after all, include a class or a meeting or some Instant Messenger time.
If you think of it in that way, then you could choose to be a funloving, friendly, gregarious I or a contemplative self-sufficient E. I don’t think you can really change the predilection, though.
And hey, my site just hit #1 at Google for my name.
It was daylight savings time!?
I woke up this morning and went to check my mail. The clock said 730 even though I was certain I had set my clock for 830. I’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes trying to figure out where I went wrong.
No wonder.
Congratulations on the top Google slot!
@ozarque – Thanks!
Well, according to that theory, I am all messed up.
Although I don’t like some kinds of parties, I love meeting people and feel recharged when I do. People who see me more than once (like bank tellers) remember me and know my name.
But I also love all the time I have to myself now that I’m retired, and feel recharged by that, too.
I guess that my problem with parties is that I don’t enjoy people in such quantity that I can’t really get to know them all.
I was amazed to find, in the last few years that bank tellers remember me. They don’t remember the thousands of other people that they process transactions for, just me. When I first noticed this, I started looking around and discovered that people at stores I go to fairly often (once a month or so), and others I meet occasionally remember me. And other people. I’m amazed by this.
Of course, I can tell you which teller is a cross stitcher, and which stores I’ve recommended to them for supplies, etc., etc.
My attitude seems to be “The world is so full of a number of things, I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.”
I love people, and I love being by myself (for some creative projects).
I guess I’m just lucky!