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The Beauty of the “Irish Goodbye”
No, it’s not rude. Not if you do it right.
I am introverted extrovert. What this means is that when I choose to be extroverted, I go deep. I am like a three-year-old that will run around the room with as much energy as humanly possible until I completely run out of steam. It’s very possible I could collapse onto the floor and take a nap right where I am. So when the tank gets low, I bail. With little to no notice.
By the time most folks realize I’m gone, I’m safely and cozily tucked in my bed with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies. Like Grandma.
This is affectionately referred to as an “Irish Goodbye.” Being Italian, this concept is so fascinating to me since anyone who grew up Italian has had to suffer from the Italian Goodbye. You’re eight. Mom starts saying her goodbyes. By the time she gets through the whole party, it’s been an hour and a half since she said goodbye to Aunt Gloria and so Mom has to start all over again from the top. You fall asleep on the floor.
I am a master of the Italian Hello and the Irish Goodbye.
I will burst into the room like Seabiscuit…
