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I realised on Friday evening, during my first social with my new team after work, that I’m actually fine being an anti-social git. I don’t fit into those spaces at all. I can’t do the idle chitchat, nor do we have anything in common outside work.

It was, thank God, a virtual gathering, given that we’re mostly a remote/hybrid team. Small mercies. When I joined, they were already into weekend plans — drinking — which led on into natural icebreakers: our tipple of choice. This went on for ten minutes or so, as everyone listed their preferences.

Fortunately I was spared my confession, for I was interrupted before I could say mango juice, and the discussion then just drifted away on a huge digression. I’m clearly not interesting enough to hold their attention more that ten seconds, but I’m totally fine with that. I was rather relieved, actually.

For the past decade or so I’ve successfully curated my anti-social persona at work, enabling me to skip most gatherings other than the occasional team lunch in the office. I thought I’d break with tradition for the sake of my new colleagues, given that they’re given to calling me daily to give me positive vibes (and ask for help). But I think from now on, I’ll keep our relationships professional.

I reside in a completely different world. I enjoy a quiet life, and the company of the few. I can’t be bothered explaining my quirks to others: to account for my slow speech and brain fog, or my generic lack of interest in common talking points. In truth, I really struggle with gatherings like this.

So everyone was right about me, after all: I am an extremely boring person. Which, it turns out, suits me just fine.