First of all: first final of grad school - DONE. :)
Next.
I have no problems eating alone in dining halls or cafes. If you have something with which to occupy yourself (like reading or writing or...blogging), you will probably look marginally less sad and pathetic to those who derive their energy from others. But for me, a person who gets drained very easily by exams and large-scale social interactions, eating by myself is a nice way to escape into my own thoughts or my problem sets or a rerun of 30 Rock, while letting the white noise of the dining room wash over me. I don't have to worry about people judging what I eat or how fast I eat it; I don't have to worry about making dinner conversation, which, let's face it, can get a little stale, like that bread you accidentally left on the counter last week.
Obviously, I'm not a shut-in. I like people. I like my friends. And I like to have dinner with them. I realize that I can much too easily slip back in my old habits where I just avoid people and do work and watch movies in my room. This is why I try not to say no when people try to make plans with me. Social interaction is good for me. Ultimately though, when I am tired and haven't made plans with anyone, I like to be alone, to recharge. I won't say no to a friend if they want to join me, but when you're an acquaintance at best (and not a very good one), please give me the time to be by myself. I simply do not have the energy to navigate the conversations needed to make friends with you when we have very few things in common. Making friends is a process for me. It only works when I'm ready to expand my social circle and am feeling friendly. I cannot feel friendly when I don't have enough food or sleep (both of which occur often in the dining hall).
Again, not averse to making friends and being friendly. But when your starting line to me is that I look sad or lonely eating alone, it makes me much less likely to want to talk to you. Also, your line that "no one should eat alone" doesn't sit right with me (see paragraph 3).
So do come up to talk to me if for some, inexplicable reason, you find my sullen face and furious typing intriguing. I'll welcome you, even in my sleep-drunk state. But don't insult me by mistaking my lack of interacting with you for an inability to interact with anyone, and don't try to get me to talk to you by trying to undercut my self-confidence as if my choice to eat alone was due to lonesome desperation.
That's just sad.
Next.
I have no problems eating alone in dining halls or cafes. If you have something with which to occupy yourself (like reading or writing or...blogging), you will probably look marginally less sad and pathetic to those who derive their energy from others. But for me, a person who gets drained very easily by exams and large-scale social interactions, eating by myself is a nice way to escape into my own thoughts or my problem sets or a rerun of 30 Rock, while letting the white noise of the dining room wash over me. I don't have to worry about people judging what I eat or how fast I eat it; I don't have to worry about making dinner conversation, which, let's face it, can get a little stale, like that bread you accidentally left on the counter last week.
Obviously, I'm not a shut-in. I like people. I like my friends. And I like to have dinner with them. I realize that I can much too easily slip back in my old habits where I just avoid people and do work and watch movies in my room. This is why I try not to say no when people try to make plans with me. Social interaction is good for me. Ultimately though, when I am tired and haven't made plans with anyone, I like to be alone, to recharge. I won't say no to a friend if they want to join me, but when you're an acquaintance at best (and not a very good one), please give me the time to be by myself. I simply do not have the energy to navigate the conversations needed to make friends with you when we have very few things in common. Making friends is a process for me. It only works when I'm ready to expand my social circle and am feeling friendly. I cannot feel friendly when I don't have enough food or sleep (both of which occur often in the dining hall).
Again, not averse to making friends and being friendly. But when your starting line to me is that I look sad or lonely eating alone, it makes me much less likely to want to talk to you. Also, your line that "no one should eat alone" doesn't sit right with me (see paragraph 3).
So do come up to talk to me if for some, inexplicable reason, you find my sullen face and furious typing intriguing. I'll welcome you, even in my sleep-drunk state. But don't insult me by mistaking my lack of interacting with you for an inability to interact with anyone, and don't try to get me to talk to you by trying to undercut my self-confidence as if my choice to eat alone was due to lonesome desperation.
That's just sad.
No comments:
Post a Comment