I can’t remember every having less face-to-face contact with other human beings than I have over the last six months, nor can I remember a time when every day was so much like every other. You’d think that I would welcome any opportunity to interrupt the monotony, to do something or see someone new. And yet there seems to be a kind of inertia at play. The routine has become comfortable, and I perversely find myself resisting anything that wants to pull me out of it.
I’m beginning to understand how hermits are able to live alone for years. Isolation can start to feel normal, maybe even preferable.
I hasten to add that I make it a point not to surrender to that mental inertia. I just scheduled a Zoom happy hour next weekend, and have hosted outdoor, socially-distanced get-togethers, but it’s interesting how my knee-jerk reaction to “Hey, would you like to…?” is something along the lines of “Leave me alone.”