The other day, fresh from the shower, I chose a clean pair of pants to wear. Seeing particular favorites, I quickly reviewed my coming week’s obligations and plans, then chose the pants. As I pulled them from the drawer and put them on, I felt tension flowing away from my body and mind, replaced by a rush of quiet euphoria as I realized that, for the next few days, I would stay home. Topping them with a favorite pullover hoodie sweatshirt, I felt complete, whole, and entirely happy.
I avoid wearing these pants, a pair of camouflage-patterned military fatigues, if I’m going to be seen by people outside my immediate family. I’ve been shy about wearing them since a lovely local woman gently and cleverly teased me about them (see Camo Clash). As much as I enjoyed the attention, I decided not to wear them in public anymore. I henceforth firmly identified them as “homestead pants.”
Mark’s camouflage fatigues, not for general company (Photo: Russ White).
My point here, however, is the rush of emotion when I decided I would be largely alone at home for at least half of the coming week. I am close to accepting my introverted self. I have come to embrace my inner hermit.
