Home Alone


I used to think I was an introvert. I tended to bottle up emotions, was a bit of a loner at school, never had big parties or got asked out. (I still never get asked out, although I am pretty sure this guy was hitting on me last night at Century Ballroom.) Anyway, I have found the last few years as God has worked some healing in my heart that I am actually an extrovert. In my natural state, I wear my emotions on my shirtsleeve, love to talk with people, and have fun at parties (as long as I don't have an anxiety attack!).

That being said, I am finding solitude is not my favorite situation. Perhaps this is why I live at home with my grandma, parents, four brothers, and the dog. While this can lead to a lot of craziness, it's actually a ton of fun. There is always someone to talk to, and when I come home, there are people to welcome me. But this week my entire family has taken off to visit relatives in Iowa, leaving me here with the dog. The dog is insane, but she doesn't yet talk to me, so I'm pretty much alone.

This same trip happened a few years ago, but that was under very different circumstances. I was in college, working nights, taking summer classes, and generally overworked and underslept. I was also in a rather depressed time of life, so coming home to an empty house every day and immediately curling up in a bed seemed perfectly natural. Nowadays, the empty house is still depressing, but I no longer wish to live in that permanent fetal position.

So I'm happy that my dad is flying back on Tuesday, and that I have plans with friends the next few days until then. And I will be ecstatic when the family comes home. Yes, it will bother me when I can't find a quiet place to have a conversation on the phone because my brothers are running around killing each other with lightsabers. And I will still roll my eyes when my mom talks about how I am never home enough and need to come help in the garden. But I will be ever so grateful for my family, for a house full of love and excitement.