It occurs to me that I may be the most intense homebody I know. I do not like to leave my house. And I'm not just talking about traveling for several days with an infant. I don't even like to be away from my house for several hours. Of course, I usually enjoy myself once I get out and go somewhere, but the getting out part is a definite hurdle and I'm always very relieved to get home again.
And it's not just because I have a small, completely dependent life form to care for now, either. I was like that before gestation. A. doesn't understand it. He goes nuts if he doesn't leave the house for a couple of days. I can--and do--go literally weeks without leaving the property. This is admittedly a lot less boring when living someplace like Blackrock, which provides entertainment and work to keep me occupied on a daily basis. If I still lived in a shitty studio apartment, I don't think I'd be quite so hermity.
Shall we have an Audience Participation Day today? Yes? Yeah, I thought you'd been missing them. So please, share with the class: Are you a wanderer, or is the very thought of putting on acceptable clothing and leaving your house enough to make you break out in hives? (Or, you know, something in between.)