I haven't left the house in 3 days.
I think this should worry me, but strangely it doesn't. I've noticed over the last few years that I seem to be turning into a bit of an agoraphobic. Oh, not literally. Leaving the house doesn't send me into a sweaty panic. I merely find it easier to stay at home. Maybe it's just another symptom of my laziness.
The irony is that I used to imagine I would be one of those sophisticated, worldly women who traveled all the time. Now I dread a trip to the grocery store. I suppose it's not really the same though, is it? One is about adventure, doing something new; the other is about the drudgery of chores.
So maybe I don't have to worry about myself after all.