A Real Day of an Introvert

by Tatyana Kryvovyaz

Tender April sun wakes me up; I look at the window and see all these yellow dandelions, 

full of spring sap, cherry trees in blossom and rich green grass. I wonder why this beauty
can’t last long.

Maybe, because nothing can’t last long. And because beauty that lasts
long turns into normality and can’t astonish people anymore. But I still think that if I lived
somewhere in California, amid palms and American dream, where there is no snow and
temperature doesn’t fall below… I don’t actually have correct facts about temperature
in California, but I know it must be warm there, and palms must be as green as nowhere
else. So, if I lived there, I would never stop admiring the weather and feeling the beauty
of everything around. Of palms. And hot asphalt. And beeches with sand like gold. Oh,
Half an hour I roll in bed with thoughts of the world’s perfection and then make myself get
up. I feel safe; I like my spacious flat; I like cooking poached eggs in the morning and baked
salmon in the evening; I like dining alone; I always lay the table as it must be, serve dishes
with all my fantasy and appreciate every minute of a meal. I eat slowly; I hate the feeling
that I must run or I’m late; I need time to think; I think dining, driving to work, staring at
the window for fifteen minutes; the most colorful visions come to my mind then. They’re
beautiful. They set off the ugliness of the world around. Actually, it’s not always ugly. But
in my way to office it is. All these useless billboards with plain, stupid ads on them, all
these people imaging they mean a lot. I like observing them and can tell a lot of good and
pleasant things about them, but the bad things I can tell are much more terrible than anyone
can imagine just as nobody usually ponders over it. It’s because I not only watch but really
At work I just don’t need you coming up to me, saying something silly like “Look at Lucy,
she is so fat in this dress” or “I’ve had such nice time with my boyfriend this night!”. Wow,
what an amazing fact! You’d rather leave me alone and let me complete my work, dear. No-
no, I don’t want to ignore you, you’re even not unpleasant for me; I just don’t have a habit
of talking to my colleague like he’s my best friend, that’s ok. Never mind.
Thanks God, it’s Friday, and at work I think of home all day long, imagine myself in my
flat cooking some Mediterranean dish, listening to Jimy Hendrix or The Doors, waiting for
Susy to come. I adore this evenings when we lounge on the sofa, eat, drink whisky, watch
something nice like Fellini or Buñuel, and chat about everything existing under the sun.
Susy is that person I really love. Susy and Samuel, but Samuel’s in Italy now, and I haven’t
seen him for half a year. Miss him so much.
A day comes to an end, and a boss invites everybody for beer – to celebrate a successful
project. But I’m not eager to spend few hours with people who are not close to me and with
whom I don’t want to become close. So, I try to escape as quickly as possible, because
Susy will come in an hour, and I haven’t cooked anything yet. My runaway is noticed, but
everybody pretends not to pay attention – they know that I’m not fond of going out with
them, and that’s not because I’m arrogant or whatever; it’s just because sometimes I’m a
sociopath, and that’s normal. I prefer staying with closest people to attending corporative
parties. Only with soulmates I feel safe and only with them I open my heart.