There are a lot of things I struggle with. Making friends, for example. Confronting jerks, avoiding celery, deciding if listening to an audiobook counts as reading or not. These are my crosses to bear. But the most difficult thing for me to do in the whole, entire world — a world full of potential friends and jerks, celery and audiobooks — is to leave the house.
If I was the independently wealthy sort, I would never, ever, ever leave my home. Well. I might occasionally venture out to my garden to glare at the plants that refuse to grow, but other than that, you would never see me out there. Yes, if I had my way I would be a hermit.