The Dancing Sausage Web Journal

Whimper whimper whimper whimper! Whine! Where you at, yo? You have gone totally AWOL and I miss you!

Your boyfriend linked to an article titled Caring for Your Introvert. I was left laughing over its appropriateness to him. It also appealed to me in some ways, though I felt deeply, deeply insulted by it in others. It’s really quite harsh on extroverts. I’m left trying to find a way to defend a claim that I’m an introvert, too, though I’m left feeling like ol’ Goldie is gonna jump right down my neck if I say so, after I tread a little too hard on his social anxiety disorder the other day. I do like to be alone, spent half my childhood buried under books in my room, though I spent the other half trying to direct grand-scale spectacles. I’d like to claim that I love introverts, I really do, but I’m left stung by the article’s implication that as an extrovert I by necessity love them like a randy puppy dog.