It amuses me that when Twitter is down, I suddenly can’t concentrate on the fiction in front of me though the words were flowing when I had the company of the Twitterverse. After a prolonged server error, say five minutes, I start getting antsy, giving up on the refresh button and trying the infamous trick of closing and reopening the browser window. If that doesn’t reconnect me to the world, I almost always turn to my blog.
Online I am a social butterfly. Offline I am an introvert and would probably be a hermit if I didn’t need to leave the house for a paycheck.
Most of you probably will laugh at the introvert comment. I know I don’t appear so online. I chatter constantly on Twitter and through IM. I share more than most and I am not shy about it. Yet, if we took a dozen of my Twitter friends and dropped us in a room to chat face to face, I’d be the one sitting quietly in the corner, watching and listening. The Muse would be fluttering at my shoulder, whispering ideas and taking notes, none of which would pertain to the conversation at hand.
Sure, as such an event progressed, because there’d inevitably be alcohol involved (I’m picturing this in my living room with my collection worthy of the best bar in the basement) I’d open up. I’d flirt with the cute boys and I’d kiss the cute girls and I’d talk about why I write gay erotic fiction. Without a screen between us or a couple of good drinks I say very little.
This is true of real life friends many days too. Not long ago, Hubby’s cousin C. called and invited us out to dinner to catch up. I said very little as we waited for our table and only a touch more after we were settled in with dinner ordered. At some point C. asked me if I was okay and I said I was (I was) and that the music was too loud for me to hear everything so I couldn’t talk much if I couldn’t hear the conversation. Yes, that was true enough, but had it been quieter, I doubt I’d have more to say.
After a drink, I started participating (a little) as the boys talked about books. The music was still too loud, but I put forth the effort.
Recently, my boss thanked me for not participating in some melodrama between co-workers. My response was that both people involved were wrong and drove me nuts, but I chose not to talk to them when they’re like that because I can get away with it. The department knows I’d rather be writing or reading and they know I’m probably not listening to the random conversation unless I’ve pulled my chair out of my cube and am actively participating. Sometimes being the introvert helps. If I’d care to talk, I’d have put both of the bickering fools in their place and probably be called out for making matters worse. I’m glad I didn’t. If I want drama, I’ll read a book.
Anyway, I should be writing now, but I wanted to share my observations about my introverted nature disappearing online. Twitter is still not loading new tweets for me, but I need a shower and a run (not in that order) so maybe my social life will be restored by the time that’s been done. If not, I’ll have to force myself to sit still and write alone. It’ll be difficult, but I’m on a deadline with this one. I don’t have time to wait for the peanut gallery to be restored.