A Part, Apart

People wear me out. There. I've said it. It's enervates me to socialize. (Enervate, vt, to weaken mentally or physically.) I like alone time even if I'm out among strangers but not specifically supposed to be engaged with them.

I took this photo in Dallas, on McKinney Avenue, while walking around by myself. (FFP was getting a massage in the hotel spa.)

I realized today that I'm the right age and in the appropriate physical decline to participate in group travel. But. No. Cruise, maybe. (I still want to get FFP to try a cruise.)

On the other hand I like to be a part of things. I like to be included. As a kid I wanted to be in groups that had uniforms. I loved uniforms.

Now I don't want to belong to groups. But I do want to feel like I'm a part of things. But, you know, apart. I've been feeling a little depressed and adrift lately. I hate to feel like that. Especially when I should feel great. When, by external measures, things are going great.