The I and T in my Meyers-Briggs’ INTJ were firing on all cylinders the other day.
Picture this: it’s 5:00 AM. I don’t need to set an alarm anymore because Rip’s internal clock tells him it’s time for a walk. Fine, that’s cool, I’m not, like, mad or anything that the two of us are able to greet the newspaper delivery dude every morning (who, by the by, drives a total creeper van. Beware, kids!).
But, still, it’s 5:00 AM, and there’s only so much an un-caffeinated misanthrope should be expected to tolerate.
I spot my neighbor and her Yorkie from across the parking lot. She, in her nightgown and me in my University of Michigan gym shorts and a hoodie.
I know this lady’s gonna want to talk; she always does. But it’s 5:00 AM…and I don’t. I just want to walk my dog, pick up his poop, and go home to get ready for the day. With that in mind, I plot the rest of our course around the complex so as to avoid any human interaction whatsoever. I just don’t care to talk to Yorkie Mom, thankyouverymuch. If it’s not a slumber party, then there’s no justifiable reason for two people in their pajamas to talk to one another.
Whew. Rounding the last corner toward home, I think I’ve done it. Success! No weird small talk with people you don’t know, whose only available topic of conversation always seems to revolve around how big Ripley’s gotten.
Then, as we’re approaching the sidewalk in front of our door, I see her. Yorkie Mom and Dog are just standing there in front our apartment, waiting for us.
“I’m sorry,” acknowledging she has a problem with petting cute puppies, but just can’t quit. “I just wanted to see little Rippy!”
What the what? If you know you’re doing something socially inappropriate…don’t do it! At this point, the rational part of my brain is blowing up. What a whackadoo! This woman has actually stopped her normal routine and has gone out of her way to wait outside of my house, just to pet my dog…and it’s 5:00 in the morning!
“Yeah, no problem,” I respond, not knowing–and honestly without having enough synapses firing–what to say.
I give her two minutes with the dog, and I may or may not have made any effort to disguise my sheer disgust at her completely innocent love of animals.
What a monster. 5:00 AM!