I'm sure, to some people, I am a total homebody. Don't get me wrong, I go out with friends often and I feel like a have a pretty typical social life for an (almost) 25 year old. But boy oh boy do I love being at home. I was never the child who left sleepovers early because I missed my own bed, oh no, I was co-raised by many of my friend's parents and you had to kick me out of your house to get me to go home. I left my hometown at 18 and I travel every chance I get.
So, if someone can explain to me why more often than not all I want to do is stay home, organize my closet, dust the far too many vintage owls laying around, kick my feet up on my sofa and relish in sheer hermit time? My boyfriend on the other hand, will walk aimlessly around the city trying to top the last sandwich shop he's discovered, reads in the park, and just seizes his day in general.
I have this vision of me, if I had more time off or worked from home or whatever that I would bike around with fresh basil in my hypothetical bike basket and I would go feed ducks or something. No. I would dance around my apartment and put delicious things in avocados, for hours.