A Period Of Adjustment

 

I'm going through the rough phrase of major life change now.

 I turned introvert pretty fiercely at the end of Winter quarter. In general, time alone became so important to me, and reduced social unit size so influential to my comfort (or lack thereof), that I willingly sacrificed opportunities to be with people or talk with them in favor of spending time in my own company (or in very limited social settings, such as with Trice over IM). In general, this was good--I was learning how to be comfortable on my own, to not bend my every waking moment around the people I care about. It's better-understood now, though, and now that many of the people around me have moved, or moved on with their lives, I find myself rather lonely.

 One of the core components of this loneliness is the sense of missing touch. I do have limits to the amount of physical contact I want in a given period, but they're difficult to even approach so long as I'm in a good mood. My roommates and I are not terribly physical anymore--by and large, I don't want any specific level of contact with them beyond my usual desire for hugs, and because they're always present (but not on my "list of most-highly trusted people") I feel the need to be somewhat reserved.

 My remaining local friends are either seen occasionally, or we are not freely affectionate with one another, or both. There's nothing wrong with this in principle, and I suspect it's normal for most people to have very limited physical contact with anyone other than spouses and lovers...but I am rather accustomed to a lot of affection with a modest-sized group of people, all of whom I am at least somewhat close with. All of those people are gone now, and so all of my comfortable sources of frequent contact have disappeared.

I miss snuggling on couches and sitting together on buses, cudling up for naps, and all those other little things. I miss sitting together quietly with people, pleased to share presence even when there was nothing to say and no specific activity to perform. I miss hanging out randomly, in pairs or groups...I miss conversation and the joys of spending time with people I don't have to share a home with.  I suppose much of what I miss can also be attributed to the peculiar sort of poly clusterfuck that was being enacted at the time--but even when I'd isolated myself from that rapidly-disintegrating network on a sexual level, these people were still my friends and we cared about one another.

 Lately, all of that's been gone. I don't really have the energy to go replacing my former social life, and don't consider it an attainable exercise in any case (at best, I might perhaps build up a network of people that met my needs in some similar way--ideally without the dramapile ;p).  So...despite being comfier than ever with time alone, I am discovering that I really do need some ongoing, regular source of social and physical contact with other people, in order to function optimally.

 I haven't been doing enough writing lately, for either creative or journalling purposes, and while my habit of cartooning has slowly picked back up, I've scarcely had the time to draw much. Work has become my all-encompassing priority...I know from past experiences that attendance is my biggest weakness with jobs, and it's also the single most problematic thing to trouble with--especially as a contractor for a staffing agency. Hence, I've been getting to work about an hour early each day, although I do not expect I will always be *that* punctual in the future. Fortunately, Nintendo has decently comfy relaxation facilities, even if they are somewhat overly hyped in the job market. I suppose for a call center job, they're positively luxurious.

 Work itself, while an adjustment in terms of time spent, is by far the most enjoyable thing I've ever done to pay the bills. I do get stressed sometimes, and I recently had my first hour-long, failed-to-solve-the-issue call...which left me feeling pretty icky. However, by comparison to anything else I've done, it's a relative walk in the park. I answer the phone. I try to solve the caller's problem, and be friendly about it. I actually succeed most of the time, and at worst I manage "detached, polite and professional." Well, okay, I still have the occasional moment where I get overwhelmed and lose some of my self-assuredness on a call or two, but it's not difficult to recover from that. When all else fails, I simply remind myself that I am getting payed more money per hour than I've ever earned, to do something that is at worst mildly aggravating and a bit stressful. It makes it easier to press on into the next call.

 Finally...Morgan's moving out. In one year's time, I will likely be following suit. The thought fills me with equal parts relief and trepidation--on one hand, I have been working hard to try and gain some measure of self-reliance, and it's beginning to pay off. On the other hand, I will find myself faced with the question of what comes next...and so far, the fact that it's approximately a year away hasn't stopped me from fretting about what happens if I don't have things together by then.

That is all for now.