Why do people always worry about me when I want to be alone? Why do they always think that, somehow, I should really really really want to go run errands with them, or whatever it is that they’re doing? Sorry, the grocery store is just NOT my favorite place to be. Sorry. I’d much rather sit here, with my book and my computer and my music, and just kick back for a little while. Really. REALLY. I’m not ill, or crazy, or depressed, just…quiet, I guess. At least for today.