I've never been good at breaking the ice. I tow the line between social and anti, equal parts Homecoming Queen and homebody. I throw myself into social situations and immediately regret doing so, wishing I was at home in my comfies on my couch. Then, when on said couch, I'm often feeling like I should have accepted the invitation, shouldn't have rescheduled, should've gotten my lazy butt in the shower and made some effort. (I've never claimed to be sane.)
Three years ago, I'd just settled into a new city and job, lamented about how hard it was to make friends, went on to make tons, then abruptly left the little network I'd built to move back to an old city but new territory: motherhood.