I try not to go to parties if I can help it. I have a large friend group, and I enjoy spending time with all of them, but in small numbers. I am an impulsive and talkative introvert with attention issues, and in a large group of people, I keep thinking it’s a good idea to tell people things, even though I don’t drink. Then I get itchy and want to go home. Also, parties are things held in enclosed spaces where people are talking, so they are a good way to get a respiratory virus, and I have asthma.

But I went to a friend’s little party because she asked me, because she is a good friend, and because I knew no one would be drinking.

It was the usual. People hugging me when I am not fond of hugging, people assuming things were safe to say to me that weren’t, people at the party who had refused another person’s invitations to other social events, and who looked apprehensive when they saw me because they know I talk to the other person regularly. Someone saying that his close relative had COVID, looking confused when I asked him when the last time was that he saw her, and then hugging me.

I had a nice enough time.

That’s enough parties, thank you.

I walked a very long way to a bus, and got home in time to watch the fireworks at the Art Museum on my front step; it’s one of the nicer things about my house, that I can see the fireworks. That’s my idea of a good time: something marvelous happening where I can watch it from a distance, with my hands in my pockets.