Being Alone on Christmas: Merry Christmas!

My mother is worried that I'm spending another holiday alone. 

I am nearly delirious with happiness to be spending a holiday alone. You have no idea how wonderful this is for me and people like me who love solitude.

I do not have to talk to anyone.  I don't have to fake-smile at anyone.  I don't have to pretend to be interested in them just in case they are a secret shopper who could cost me my job.  I don't have to be polite to rude or drunk folks.  No one will touch my arm or any other part of my body without permission.  No one will get mad at me for not having the product they waited too long to try to find and won't have in time for the holidays.

If I smile, it's because I want to, because I am joyful, because I read something great or heard a beautiful song, because I'm figuring out how to use the camera on my phone, or because I am writing a Christmas card to someone I love.

I am alone; I can relax.  I am not on display, not on stage, not desperately trying to act coherent.

Because I don't have to talk, I don't have to hear myself slur words because of exhaustion.  I don't have to be embarrassed.  I don't have to drive anywhere.  I don't have to worry about hurting anyone if I flake out at the wheel.  I don't have to listen to the Chipmunks singing Christmas carols (that Alvin, he is such a little rascal).  I only have to listen to what I choose to hear.

I don't have to be making my arms hurt worse, and I don't have to hide the pain when they throb.  No one will see me drop anything or trip or fall over or run into things.

It's exhilarating, this being alone.  Being able to be alone, just me and God, on Christmas Day makes me think maybe I really can keep going once the madness starts up again.  Alone time is where/when/how I recharge my energy, and it has been this way for years, but my mom can't help but worry.

At least she doesn't seem concerned specifically about the fact that I'm not with a boyfriend or husband.  She really just wants us all somewhere she can see us and watch over us during the holidays.  At least, she's getting good at making it seem that way. :) 

I wish my solitude didn't cause her such worry as it causes me such joy.  I'm a little too tired to be concerned for her right now, though.  Now is a time for me to bask in the present solitude God has given me.  It's the best present anyone could give me right now.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

The joys of being hit on in retail

I'm having a bit of a hard time at work.  I used to be the only female at the store that didn't get hit on.  I was allowed to use my natural reserve as a barrier.  I could help people without being ridiculously, fake-y chipper.  Recently, my RetailEstablishment instituted new policies, and I was basically told I had to harass customers in a specific, scripted fake-cheerful way, or I would get fired.

Since then, I've been hit on 2.5 times this week.  Once by a possibly senile man in his eighties, once by a semi-regular customer, and once by a new customer who asked another employee what my name was, so he could hit on me but was then overcome with shyness and only asked me if I was active on any internet sites or forums (should've given him this one, eh?).  I heard about that last one later.  Apparently, when I pointed out a not-well-posted sale I thought he might've been interested in, he thought I was kind of cute.

I wonder if I'm the only one not-at-all flattered when people hit on me, no matter who they are.


Why do you suppose so many people can't tell the difference between fake retail/sales friendliness and actual, genuine interest (possibly of the relationship variety)?