Writers 
Man, let me tell you about the absolute circus that is my social life because I am still trying to figure out how I ended up in this mess.
You know that wildly popular internet joke where an extrovert spots a quiet introvert lurking in a corner, and then all of a sudden, decides "Hey you over there, I naturally like you," and adopts them like a stray cat?
Okay, maybe not a stray cat, but you get the gist.
Whoever came up with that was staring directly at my life and writing my exact biography without asking my permission first.
Being famously introverted, people constantly look at my bustling social calendar and ask me the ultimate mystery question.
Want to know what that is?
They want to know how I manage to make so many friends without breaking a single sweat.
Honestly, I stare right back at them with equal confusion because I literally do not know the answer. It feels like a bizarre supernatural phenomenon that I never actually applied for or signed up to experience in this lifetime.
Because seriously dudes, all I want is stay indoors and enjoy MY company.
My primary clique consists entirely of certified extroverts who possess completely unlimited social batteries. For reasons that still baffle modern science, they collectively decided to scoop me up, toss me under their protective wings, and anchor themselves to my side forever. I am the designated quiet anchor of the group.
Whenever they scream, I nod, and somehow we all survive the daily chaos together through sheer luck.
Let me rephrase that . . . I survive the daily chaos through sheer luck.
Things get even more hilarious when people ask how I manage to make friends outside my main crew. That requires me to explain a process involving zero effort on my part.
The grand secret is that I am aggressively unapproachable by choice, yet universally approachable by pure accident.
Don't worry, I'll explain the gist.
I never make the first move in any social setting. I am perfectly content standing in a corner minding my own business. But human curiosity loves a challenge.
When I am flying solo, random strangers march right up to me and drop lines about how mysterious or reserved I look to them.
Guy, I'm not a spy, I just want to be alone.
Others zero in on my aesthetic, complimenting my outfit or my height, completely shattering my peaceful isolation. Before I even realise what is happening, a casual chat spirals into a deep conversation that changes everything and leads directly to a brand new connection.
A conversation turns into exchanging handles on social media platforms or numbers. Suddenly, we are scheduling a meet up on a Saturday and calling each other besties.
To the outside world, I am viewed as the ultimate social butterfly. They look at me and see an introverted icon with a massive tribe surrounding them at all times.
This never fails to crack me up.
If there is a masterclass in accidentally stumbling into popularity while just wanting to stay home, I need to teach it.
Until then, I will keep standing in corners, waiting for the next extrovert to uninvitedly adopt me.
