January is very, very busy. I’m juggling five courses, and even though three of them are essentially the same course, they’re on two different schedules, so after I’ve presented the same lesson on literary symbolism three times over two days, I’m a bit boggled.
Had dinner last night with some friends we hadn’t seen for a long time, but had to miss seeing Bride and Prejudice, which I’d encouraged all my students to see, for various reasons. Of course, I’ve seen it myself several times—but it’s still fun. Tonight, another social event—my sister’s Mardi Gras party.
Now, I love my sister, and I fully expect to enjoy myself at her party, but in doing various things around the office this afternoon, I came across this essay reprinted in one of the potential composition readers publishers keep sending, which explains quite well why I look forward to some quiet time now and then. Maybe next weekend!
…after an hour or two of being socially “on,” we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn’t antisocial. It isn’t a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating.
Not surprisingly, a lot of professors tend to be introverts, high energy in the classroom, then hiding out in libraries or offices.