My Life Is Hard Because I'm Too Popular

I'm too popular. (I know, I can see the waves of stuck-uppedness wafting from the screen, too.) You can't know the struggle. I don't blame you for your doubts. We are going to come back from this and you inevitably will end up loving me. It's the way things go. 

Before we proceed, we should talk about how popularity is measured. Here's how I measure it:

If I'm not in my loungewear (penguin pajamas) by 8 PM every night, I have achieved popularity beyond my wildest imagination.

If it's the weekend and I have more than four things planned in the span of 72 hours, I'm a shooting star of popular-ness.

If I have more than three Facebook invites at any given time, I have surpassed the popular stratosphere.

If this isn't how you measure popularity, well, I'm not sure this is going to carry much weight for you. I mean, so what if you have a packed calendar? You think you're better than me? (Well, you kind of are, but let's explore this together.)

I'm a bit of a shut-in. My friends jokingly call me agoraphobic. Every day I actually get out of the house I'm basically smashing/hopping that hurdle. (Since I'm not very sporty, that hurdle is the only one I can ever hope to clear.)

Let's look at some of things I have done due to my popularity the last few weeks:

• I played on a recreational volleyball league (not well, but I showed up and that's something).
• I attended a Wine and Canvas party (I was better at the wining than the painting).
• I went to work (I'm so popular there, if I don't respond to people, they always come to find me and/or contact me again. It's like, have you heard of playing hard to get?)
• I've started my youngest in preschool (that requires more talking to people than ever I imagined).

So we've established my metric for popularity. You'll notice that all of my benchmarks involve leaving the house. The biggest downside I have with "popularity" is that I have to put clothes on — which involves finding my "good" yoga pants and often times I'm even expected to shower before leaving the house. (HORROR.) 

Then I have to make sure yesterday's makeup isn't still clinging to the areas under my eyes in an effort to protect passerbys from thinking the zombie apocalypse has begun. All this preening? Annoying. 

Upholding my reputation is the worst and people don't pat you on the back for, you know, pulling yourself together and being social. 

How can I be expected to jetset around town hobnobbing with preschoolers, canvassing with winos while maintaining pride in my appearance? Purely insane. If you have your popularity under control would you mind dropping some hints?  Because being really popular is so hard.