I think I must be a little agoraphobic. I would rather stay home than do most anything. I like to be in my own kitchen, on my own couch, in my own office. I like to have one of my cats nearby (sometimes they're too near) and have the view out my own windows. I am always a bit surprised the world is there when I cross over into it. Oh, fresh air. Has that always been here?
My friend Suzette is a real outdoorsy, former jock type person. She often calls me and says "Isn't the weather amazing? Isn't it great outside?" and I answer, to her chagrin, "Is it?" I really don't know. I have been happily reading and poking around at all the indoor things like laundry and emailing and trying to write.
My husband often comes home on Friday nights and says, "Let's go to the movies," and I answer "But I got us movies from Blockbuster," or "Really, go out to the movies? Tonight?" (Now, I know what you're thinking: she had to go out to Blockbuster, didn't she? I do go outside. I do plan ahead for the weekend and go grocery shopping and all that, it's just that when there's a choice, stay here or go out, I'll often take stay here.)
Maybe the problem is we have to drive everywhere, and I mean everywhere: the supermarket, the dry cleaners, a coffee shop. If we go for a long walk, all we get are more houses. We want to move to a house in a walkable neighborhood, where we can walk to the movies and a restaurant and a coffee shop, all in one go. If I still just want to stay inside there, in a new house, then we'll know: I'm a little agoraphobic. Or maybe just lazy.