I’m sorry, but as a professor I have to sporadically use unnecessarily complex words. Like “sporadically” in place of “once in awhile”.

More illustrative of this professional obligation is the term “dialectical dilemma” which is when two seemingly conflicting things are true at the same time. Por exemplar, I annoy people*, you annoy people, people inevitably annoy one another, a little or a lot, some of the time, or nearly all of the time. It’s just baked into our daily lives. We give and we get.

Social scientists keep learning about all the ways close interpersonal relationships, or more plainly friendships, are essential to our well-being. Especially as we get closer to senior discounts.

So what are we to do? We annoy each other, but need each other.

Some people choose to live in remote settings where they’re way less likely to interact with others. Thus, they’re way less likely to be annoyed, while simultaneously giving up the substantial benefits of social interaction.

To each is own of course, but I’m convinced we should embrace the risks of being annoyed by living in closer proximity to others. Put differently, we should design our lives so we have to interact with others on a regular basis. Knowing our feathers are going to get ruffled.

Zillow has a cool feature called the “Walk Score” for residences. Our old home had a Walk Score of 0. Our new one has a Walk Score of 65. From the country to the city we go.

One day last week, the Good Wife tricked me bigly. “Do you want to weed the front together?” she asked. I knew I was looking especially fetching, but that was a shameless come-on if I ever heard one. I pictured us rolling around in the dirt. Maybe? Instead, once I got into full tree trimming and power weeding mode, she announced she was going inside.

Then. It. Happened. It turns out we live on a major bike route. Someday, if you bike from downtown Olympia to the Westside, you will go right by our house. In an hour, 15-20 cyclists went by. Of all sizes and shapes. After a kitted-out BTorian passed on his mountain bike, he turned back and said, “Is that Ron Byrnes?!”

A little later Suzie, the owner of a downtown art gallery stopped on her ginormous Specialized e-bike. And we talked and talked and talked. She asked me when I’m getting an e-bike, which in hindsight, prob shoulda prepared me for the Burgerville bullshit.

And then Burke, from two houses down came over, and we talked. About how middle schoolers care about one thing, peer relations, and therefore will say ANYTHING to preserve them.

Long story short, in one hour I spontaneously interacted with more people than I did in eight years at our Nature Park residence. Which is good for me, because I’m an introvert.

So six miles and 65 points later, I’m damn near a social butterfly. A slight exaggeration, but don’t hate me because you ain’t me.

*Last week, when I was in too big of a hurry, I may have left my Costco cart against a curb in the parking lot instead of returning it to the cart stand. A women in a minivan slow rolled right by me, GLARED at me and then WAGGED her finger at me as if I had just run over a kitten and a puppy. It was so over the top, it didn’t have the intended effect. Instead of feeling shamed, I felt amused and amazed that I could annoy her that easily.