remember/have seen that ancient episode of The Twilight Zone where the guy, who wanted nothing more than for people to leave him alone so he could read in peace, finally got what he wanted—-a world with nary a living soul and plenty of books—-only to have his glasses fall to the ground and break into smithereens? (Whoa, long sentence.)

That character is a summation of my worst fault. I am a complete and utter miser when it comes to time. I schedule events and outings around my personal time (sorry friends, now you know). I would want nothing more than to spend days upon days in a comfortable room, armed with tea/alcohol/books/internet and just read/learn/listen/watch. I must be crazy.

Though, wouldn’t you be crazy if you didn’t embrace solitude?

(Yes.)