Oh, y’all. I am sitting down to write a post and I have no idea where it is coming from or where it is going, but I suppose I just have things to say and thoughts to type.

First of all, an observation: no fewer than three (3) people I follow on Twitter have said, in the past 48 hours, that they feel they are being pulled in a million different directions. Every time that sentiment popped up in my feed I was all, “ME TOO ME TOO YOU GUYS MEEE TOOOO,” but, as I was too busy being pulled in a million different directions, I barely had a spare second to reply. It’s good to know I’m not alone, though, in feeling that way. Solidarity, Twitter friends who are spread thin by life!

Life has been …something lately. All last semester I was saying the same thing I am saying now: too much to do, too many social activities, too many events, too many weekend plans, too many trips, and too much just Too Much. I thought the situation would change this semester but it is, in fact, worse. I honestly feel like the next time someone invites me to something or asks for a favor or suggests an activity or a trip, I might not be able to stop myself from bursting into tears. I am right on the edge of just imploding with how much everything is Too Much.

(I am fully aware that it sounds like I am complaining because my social life is too good, or that by golly life sure is hard when people like me. I don’t know how to mitigate that effect here. Obviously, I am lucky to have good friends who like me. I appreciate that. But maybe if I complain about it enough they’ll stop liking me and life will be easier? Kidding.)

You may have noticed I did not mention work in this list of overwhelming things. Work is work — work is good in most ways; work is busy as always (maybe even busier than usual), but work is not a problem. Work is not overwhelming me. Social life is overwhelming me.

Every time I get my hopes up that maybe I’ll have an empty, unscheduled weekend ahead, Too Much starts again. I need to be able to do two things:

1) Say no without feeling guilty or like I need to have (or invent) a “valid” “excuse” for not participating. I don’t need an excuse. My desires are already valid.

2) Declare a free weekend for myself, when I will not “have no plans,” (i.e. invite people to invite me to things — when you “have no plans” it is like saying “I’m free to be incorporated into YOUR plans”), but rather “plan to do nothing.” Nothing will be my plan, get it?

HENCE I DECLARE THE FOLLOWING:

Between the days of March 16th – 20th, the second half of Spring Break, I plan to do nothing. No work, no socializing, no favors, no trips, no activities. Nothing. DONE.

WHEW.

You don’t understand why I am freaking out if you are not as insanely introverted and socially crippled as I am. Trust me when I say that social interaction with all but a few people in my life is exhausting. It is not relaxing to “hang out” with other people. It is almost always fun but it also slowly eats away at my Self. The entire scene is one long performance in which I pretend to be a normal human being who can relate to other people and is at ease and knows how to say the right thing or at least how to say something funny. It is a character; it is never me.

You know how you might have an annoying booger stuck in your nose? One of those weird, dry, hard ones that is kind of poking you in the soft tender nose membrane? And you know you would be more comfortable and you could just breathe easier if you picked it? And you will be fine — you can still breathe and survive without picking it and sometimes you can even forget about it — yet you are still dying to pick it? But you can’t pick your nose because you are, say, giving a speech or on television or in court or performing on stage? So you have to wait for your chance to get the booger when you are alone? Well, imagine that you are NEVER ALONE. That is me right now. I have a huge poky stupid-ass dried-up BOOGER and I need to PICK IT. This is a metaphor. The friends are not the booger; they are keeping me from picking the booger. Nonetheless. Kindly look away.

As much as I long to be literally alone, please tell me I am not metaphorically alone in feeling this way sometimes!