Humans are social animals. Or so they tell me. Not that I would be surprised. I could act very cliché and start talking about people and primates. How obvious our social desires must be just by looking at our closest relatives. But I won’t be doing so. Even if I just sort of did. No, I’m more stuck on just how tired it makes me.
I don’t hate doing it. In fact, I imagine it titillates me. I smile, and animate, and try to keep up pace with all sorts of people that very likely do not share the pillars of my world views. But that’s alright, they don’t need to. As long as we can talk about what we love we’ll never need to argue about what we hate.
I’m seeing away a friend from work. He’s leaving for greener pastures, closer to family. I’m so very happy for him but at the same time I’m somewhat heartbroken. It’s funny because we only interact at work. So really I already don’t interact with him a fair bit of my life. Occasionally I’ll have an IT issue, or he’ll walk by and we’ll chat briefly. Fleeting moments.
And yet, I still feel it. He’s one of those people you can trust immediately. You know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would not wrong you.
I went to his going away party. It was an amusing experience in awkwardness. Standing there silently while groups of folks chatter about whatever comes to mind. I spent a solid hour there. Pretty proud of myself, but very tired.
Small price to pay, though.