Social anxiety isn't one of the problems I focus on very often, but it is actually pretty high on my list of reasons I don't get out much anymore. I was always really awkward in crowds, never knowing if I was talking too much or appearing to hide in the shadows. I certainly don't know what to do with myself at parties, and thus I tend to plant my butt in a chair and rarely stray from it. I feel like a coin-operated fortune teller, only perking up and talking when I am specifically addressed, but then saying things people find hard to interpret. Social distancing with Covid only made things worse. I'm like a moderately well-behaved feral cat now.
There was a big Rotary party this afternoon, kind of our end of summer bash. One of our past presidents has taken this as his regular month to host, and he makes it a great shindig. He hired a caterer who was out of this world. (I meant to ask her whether she has any sort of store front, because I would frequent the heck out of that business.) There were tables set up along the sidewalk outside of his building, and it wasn't some rinky-dink affair. They were done up right with tablecloths and flowers and branded swag. Two neighboring clubs were invited, and a handful of those folks showed, plus the turnout from our own group was impressive.
My anxiety nearly got the better of me, but I pushed through and went to the party. I had a really good time, but as usual, I sat in one spot as long as I could get away with. I tried playing corn hole for only the second time in my adult life, and I was predictably mediocre at it. My partner took to it faster than I did, and she clobbered me, if the score mattered. As great as it was, I shut down a couple of hours into it, and made one of the fastest exits of my life. I needed to go sit in the quiet, and I got myself home in a hurry. I hope those I practically ghosted weren't mad I left with little notice, but I'm not socially skilled enough to have done any better.
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