Tonight Hub and I are going to a party. I do not like parties. I’m a terrible introvert and incredibly shy. I also get embarrassed easily. I will probably spend the evening with my face in flames…partly from discomfort and embarrassment and partly because I overheat incredibly easily. Our house is like a freezer pretty much all year round, and no one else ever keeps their place cold enough.
Why, you ask, am I going to the party? No real choice, actually. Hub is working with a charity and we’re going to the party to try to raise funds for the charity. I’ve been helping him with some of the fundraising stuff (ideas and setup), but heaven help me if I have to TALK to anyone about the charity or the fundraising…or ask for money. I’m terrible at all of it. It isn’t that I get anxious about going to the party, I just don’t like parties. I don’t like mingling, I don’t like meeting new people, I don’t like making small-talk. On top of everything else, the party is during dinner-time (also, happy hour) at a restaurant. I have no idea if there will be any food I can eat safely…and since I don’t drink, the happy hour means pretty much nothing to me.
I’m going to take my new camera and take pictures. The person organizing the event asked people to take pictures to share afterward and I figured it’d be a good way for me to practice my camera skills. Also, if I’m taking pictures maybe no one will talk to me. AND taking pictures will give me something to do and something to hold in my hands.
Really, I have nothing else to talk about right now. Well, I probably do, but for some reason I don’t feel motivated to write.