Introvert Description

I’m an idea guy. I love ideas. That’s why I love books; they’re full of ideas. I read a lot. I think about things; turning them over in my head like a bread-maker kneads dough. A lot of my life has been spent inside my own head.
We live out in the country and we’re real do-it-yourselfers. We build our own barns, put up our own fences, build our own decks, and make most of the repairs around the house. We’re pretty independent in that respect.
Before I do anything on the property, though, I need to do it in my head. I need to do it over and over again in my head. I don’t mean plan out the job, I mean do the job; nail up the lumber, run the wiring, dig the trenches, everything. I build the entire project in my head several times before I pick up a hammer or a wrench.
Mentally rehearsing the job over and over kind of takes the place of drawing up blueprints and creating materials lists. It’s probably not a good substitute – I forget things – but it’s what I do. I’m wired that way.
One of the pitfalls a guy who lives inside his head so much can encounter is not knowing when to leave. Some folks may consider it admirable that I think so much and read so much and turn ideas over in my head like a bread-maker. Thanks, I appreciate your high regard. The problem though, is that I get so comfortable inside my own cranium that I tend to stay there instead of going outside when there’s real work to be done.
My wife is pretty patient. I announce that we’re going to build a fence around the lower pasture. She’s tickled. She’s wanted a fence around the lower pasture for years. Three months later there’s still no fence around the lower pasture and she’s beginning to wonder if I really meant to build a fence or if I was just talking.
What she doesn’t realize is that I’ve already built the fence, start to finish, every board, every post, every nail, about twelve times … in my head. What I don’t realize is that the fence in my head, no matter how well built, doesn’t really serve a practical purpose.
The fence in my mind is beautiful and well constructed. As far as I’m concerned, ninety percent of the work is already done. All that remains is to actually buy the boards, dig the post holes and grab a hammer. It’s a pleasant place to be. Most of my work is accomplished without the necessity of any actual labor. That’s why the queue of “ninety percent finished” jobs in my head is so long and the list of one-hundred percent finished jobs in reality is so short. It’s just easier in here.

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