For 95% of my daily existence, I consider myself to be a fairly chatty, reasonably extroverted type of person. Those who know me well always comment on “how quiet” things are when I’m not around. It never seems to border on the excessive or annoying (at least, I hope), save when I’ve had “too much of a good thing” with regards to coffee.
Every now and again, though, I prefer not to talk at all. Consider me an “occasional introvert”.
This is hard for folks to understand. I’m not mad (as in “angry” vs. “insane”). I’m not ignoring anyone. I’m perfectly content to communicate from behind the electronic walls of e-mail, Twitter, etc.; I’d just prefer we’d leave it at that for the time being, thanks. Sometimes the back-and-forth rituals of conversation are not how I want to be that day.
If we must bring psychology into play, I suppose it’s some leftover remnant from being an only child. You get used to being a “lone wolf”, and that sticks with you, no matter how old or seemingly well-adjusted you’ve become.
So, bear with me, folks. No offense intended, and you did nothing wrong. I just need a little quiet time.
