To say that I’m a “homebody” of late would be a drastic understatement.
I’m now a cave-dweller.
Actually, I dwell under the largest, most immovable rock as deep inside the blackest cave I could get.
I think I might understand where agoraphobes are coming from.
I can’t say if my lack of interest in leaving the house is because I’m feeling reclusive and just don’t want to deal with the rest of the humans on the planet…
… OR…
… if the anxiety I feel at the prospect of most outings is actually to do with the outings themselves.
I’m not a fan of humans anyway… we’ve covered that previously. But lately I’m just checked WAY out of life and human interaction.
I think I’m hibernating… in the aforementioned cave.
Go ahead… poke the bear… see what happens.
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