Opinion: Sympathy for a misanthrope

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\Sometimes, I really don’t like people. And by people, I mean strangers, family, my children, my husband Doo … pretty much everyone. I hate the way they drive, their stupid conversations, the constant “I need you.” I’m blaming this occasional loathing on hormones and the subsequent lack of restorative sleep, but also on the end of COVID-19 mitigation measures. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m beginning to miss quarantine! Let’s explore.

Faithful readers know I am an introvert. Last year’s shutdown and social distancing rules were gifts that kept on giving for me. No large gatherings, no awkward small talk, no one on the roads. It was magical. Now, of course we are basically back to normal. Traffic, long lines, graduations and weddings – humans are emerging from their houses in droves, hell bent, it seems, on aggravating and annoying yours truly.

I was purposely cut off twice in zipper merges the other day because I didn’t “get over” 3 miles ahead of the lane closure. I can’t get a moment’s worth of quiet with nieces and nephews literally running around like proverbial decapitated chickens. I’m ready to evict all four of my precious young-adult angels because, well, they are at home. Living. In close proximity to me. And though we just returned from an amazing anniversary vacay to Washington, I wouldn’t balk if Doo told me he had an overnight business trip. Mama wants her space!

See what I mean? People in general are driving me nuts. And though I realize the problem is certainly temporary, I can honestly say that I really don’t like anyone right now.   

Peace out.

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