People who need people...

Tomorrow I head to Dublin for the last leg of my trip. I've started washing clothes which takes a bazillion hours here. The machine is a washer and a dryer in the same machine. The wash cycle (just a regular one, no pre-wash or soak) takes 2.5 hours! If you then dry the load (which can be no more than4-5 pieces of clothing, or at most 2 pairs of jeans at a time), it takes another 2 hours to get it mostly dry. I started last night and only have one more load left--out of three loads! (I also have clothes hanging on every available water-resistant surface to finish the drying process. Last time I have to wash clothes on the road!

I'm excited about Ireland, not only because it's my first visit, but mostly because I'm staying with family (technically, my brother-in-law's family [brother's-in-law?]). I realize that for the last 10 days I haven't had an actual conversation in person. Just the little exchanges in shops and restaurants and such. (Okay, that's not exactly true. I exchanged 5 sentences with a guy yesterday at the internet cafe who was from Springfield, and that was about flying in and out of Dulles.) I've had phone conversations, but nothing in person.

And I've been fine with that. Better than fine. I've loved it. I know it would get old after a while, but for now, being an extreme introvert suits me. I'm thrilled about seeing all the family, but also a little worried since I'll be going from hermit to large family all at once. I feel like I need to pick a conversation (like pick an argument, but with no yelling) with someone sitting around me in the cafe just to make sure I still know how to do it.

There were times on this trip that I worried, panicked even, about being alone for too long. Those times were all before the fact. When it came to being alone I did great. For example, I wondered how I'd be at the Bield in this cottage in the country all by myself. There wasn't a t.v. Gustavo was broken, so I couldn't watch a movie. I thought I'd be anxious and have a hard time sleeping with all the quiet. After an hour, it was hard to remember I'd been worried. I sat and listened to Beethoven sonatas (there was a CD player, so I wasn't in complete silence). I slept like a baby until the sun woke me at 5 a.m. the first morning. (I'd closed the bedroom curtains but left the bedroom door open, not realizing the sun pouring in the bay window in the sitting room was going to be blinding.) After that I usually woke at a much more civilized 7:30 a.m.

I'm feeling comfortable in my own skin and with my own company. Tomorrow I go back to enjoying the company of others as well.