I just signed a lease. Starting soon, I will be living in introvert heaven – a cement highrise near a mall. I might not always have said that is heavenly – it sounds pretty bleak, doesn’t it? But think of it – in such a building, nobody schmoozes. People keep to themselves. A greeting is usually a brief nod in the elevator. So nobody notices whether I’m alone more than they would be. The lobby cam shows me who’s ringing my bell, and the doorbell rings on my phone – which the answering machine can screen. And it’s next door to the library!

You ask if I would prefer a house. No! I lived in a house for five years. It drove me nuts. For one thing, if the roof falls off, you gotta fix it. In an apartment, you just call the janitor. But from an introvert point of view, it’s neighbours that spoil home living. Maybe it was just the area that I lived in (retired folks) but you couldn’t sneeze in the back yard without getting “Gezundheit” from three or four neighbours. I felt like I was never really alone.

The apartment I’m leaving is in a family building. Little kids are all over the place. I could live with that, even if they are noisy, the little dears. But their parents expect me to slip into family mode. And I don’t have a family mode.

Wish me luck. Moving is such sweet sorrow.