I feel drained, tired. Maybe I should have called in sick. I thought about it when I first woke up, but then I pushed myself up and got going... I'm not sick. But just now I had a wave of just feeling extremely sad. Nothing to do with anything in particular, I guess. Just exhausted and overwhelmed and tired in general.
Last night I came to the conclusion that I don't like being in my own place alone for long... I don't mind working on my collages and art projects (I turn up the CD player really loud, sing along with the Beatles, S&G, Gillian, Lucinda, Emmylou), but I like hearing people around me, even if they are not in the same house. Some small strange comfort in that. Last night I watched Amelie on my laptop in Phoebe's apartment; she's in Louisville and I am checking up on her cat Gus/Pepper while she's gone. He finally came up to me for a while to let me pet him, but he's still agitated by his mites (note to self: check for the medicine again at Walmart soon). But sitting there watching that movie on my laptop and stringing beads for the collage... Sitting there in her apartment filled with a couch, table, ottoman, wall hangings and records and posters, lanterns -- things which describe a very good and close friend -- these things reflect something of her personality and presence. Is it strange to feel more comfortable in the environment of someone else's presence than your own? Maybe, like I started thinking last night, its just that I need to share a place with someone else -- apartment mate friend like I did in Hattiesburg, or eventually a lover/partner-in-crime....
I sincerely miss that kind of closeness. I am tired of this cold place that I call home which is only me and my stuff and my personality... It feels empty of something else. It feels empty of love from someone else.
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