Introvert

I've never taken the famous Myers-Briggs test but I've decided I'm an introvert. You may find this hard to believe but it's true. Maybe you should read this article I found about caring for your introvert. I Amen-ed it the whole way through, especially these quotes:

We tend to think before talking, whereas extroverts tend to think by talking,

and:

The worst of it is that extroverts have no idea of the torment they put us through. Sometimes, as we gasp for air amid the fog of their 98-percent-content-free talk, we wonder if extroverts even bother to listen to themselves. Still, we endure stoically, because the etiquette books—written, no doubt, by extroverts—regard declining to banter as rude and gaps in conversation as awkward. We can only dream that someday, when our condition is more widely understood, when perhaps an Introverts' Rights movement has blossomed and borne fruit, it will not be impolite to say "I'm an introvert. You are a wonderful person and I like you. But now please shush."

Most people observing us casually would conclude that Paul is the introvert and I'm the extrovert. But if you analyse us by the thinking before/by talking aspect, he is definitely the extrovert. He works out every plan, sale, strategy, schedule, idea, route, and agenda by talking about it. I try to listen lovingly and patiently but sometimes I wish he could just skip the talking and tell me the conclusion.

And now his extrovert children are out of school and I am rapidly fraying at the edges. Honest, I love these sweeties with all my soul, but they. simply. will. not. stop. talking. Worse, they simply can't understand that I have only two ears, one mouth, and half a brain. I cannot simultaneously tell Amy where the rhodie fertilizer is, Emily what to sew next on her culottes, Ben to weed the hedge by the driveway, Steven to go try on this pile of shirts, and Jenny where the embroidery hoop is. Yet they all stand around and holler "MOM" and their respective questions, all at the same time, and fully expect that I am able to process all this and answer them simultaneously.

And then, of course, when their questions are answered they have to talk to each other, constantly and noisily, when I'm trying to focus on someone else. And one or two of them also feel compelled to relate their dreams in great detail as soon as they wake up, which is in the morning, when I especially long for quiet.

It looks like I'm going to have to get up very early every morning to collect myself if I'm going to make it. And I should also find a corner to retreat to now and then during the day to collect my wits, somewhere hidden and soundproof.

Quote of the Day:
Steven: Seven more degrees!
Ben: Then what?
Steven: We can go swimming.
Jenny: I don't think Mom will let us.
Steven: But maybe she'll cabbage.