I am an extreme introvert. Knowing this, I’ve taken steps to mitigate the effect this has on my life. Some are extremes like public speaking about writing and book signings where I talk to complete strangers:D. Others milder forms of panic-inducing people-ness like heading up my local RWA chapter.

Most of the time, I spend quietly sitting in a corner, perfecting my serial killer persona (always quiet and keeps to herself), and observing people. Unlike real psychos, I don’t have a mounting body count in my backyard or favorite dumping site.

I write books.

Where I kill off folks in a variety of numbers. It’s fun for me (Although in Home World, I did cry when i killed off one of my favorite characters).

But I digress.

This post is about observing people. I am thankful I get the chance to watch people. Not (ahem) in a stalker kind of way, but the I am not in a hurry to get from point A to point B, so I can look around and in the morning give names to the people I see in my neighborhood.

There’s the neighbor across the way who can’t seem to get their garbage cans out on the correct day or put them away for days afterward. He’s the one I’m most concerned about hitting my dog with his SUV.

There’s Mr. Welder with his mammoth truck who has to corral his three dogs when he opens his gate. The dogs have charged me and my dog, but they are friendly. although I did yell at them for almost getting hit by a car on their way to greet me.

There’s the potential drug dealer house where random cars stop by in the wee hours of the morning and leave.

There’s the Construction widower who always comes out to collect his paper after my dog has nearly peed on it.

There’s the truck’s compensating for something who occasionally waves before taking a side road out of the neighborhood.

There’s the vet who is recovering from PTSD, who’s moved his recovery from sitting outside on the porch in the dark to sitting in a brightly lit room by the window.

There’s the old Vet and his pregnant daughter who sometimes does her grocery shopping at 430 in the morning.

Occasionally our stoop-shouldered neighbor is out scratching at his yard and clearing out the weeds.

For the pre-dawn hours, our neighborhood is pretty busy. And that’s not counting the feral cats, rabbits, birds, raccoons, owls, and coyotes:D

Until next time.