(no subject)
I have been basically living with Steve for the last 2 months. Well isn't that all grown up?
He is crashing in my room while looking for more long term employment, also known as: anything that is not the University Call Center.
You can only tell people how to order their transcript so many times.
He is out with his friends celebrating IPA day. Two Wegmans Make-Your-Own-6-Pack of delicious hoppy beer, that I think tastes like dirt. I am at home, I cleaned, I painted the cardboard box that houses my record collection and read a little in Murakami's The Wind Up Bird Chronicle, but stopped after a particularly unsettling scene where a character is skinned alive in the Mongolian grasslands. That's the thing with reading, you can't just close your eyes through a scene like that - and I do not skip, I even read introductions and author thank-yous.
I haven't been alone in a while. I am reminded to all the time I spent alone while growing up. It is weird that in the future that won't be the case. Isn't it weird that your parents don't even have their own room? I mean, my do, but that a whole different story. Maybe it's not so weird. I am beginning to get it.
Right now I don't know how I feel about being alone. I kind of wish Steve was here. I could go over to where he is hanging out but then I think am I infringing in guy time? I also think, these people are my friends too, this shouldn't matter. They should be happy to see me. Or happy to see their friend without me. It's all very confusing to me, and I am driving myself crazing imagining what other people are thinking or feeling. I don't have to be alone right now though.
Tomorrow I leave to visit my brother in San Diego for a week. I am going to be alone all week exploring the city while he is at work. I hope I am still capable.
He is crashing in my room while looking for more long term employment, also known as: anything that is not the University Call Center.
You can only tell people how to order their transcript so many times.
He is out with his friends celebrating IPA day. Two Wegmans Make-Your-Own-6-Pack of delicious hoppy beer, that I think tastes like dirt. I am at home, I cleaned, I painted the cardboard box that houses my record collection and read a little in Murakami's The Wind Up Bird Chronicle, but stopped after a particularly unsettling scene where a character is skinned alive in the Mongolian grasslands. That's the thing with reading, you can't just close your eyes through a scene like that - and I do not skip, I even read introductions and author thank-yous.
I haven't been alone in a while. I am reminded to all the time I spent alone while growing up. It is weird that in the future that won't be the case. Isn't it weird that your parents don't even have their own room? I mean, my do, but that a whole different story. Maybe it's not so weird. I am beginning to get it.
Right now I don't know how I feel about being alone. I kind of wish Steve was here. I could go over to where he is hanging out but then I think am I infringing in guy time? I also think, these people are my friends too, this shouldn't matter. They should be happy to see me. Or happy to see their friend without me. It's all very confusing to me, and I am driving myself crazing imagining what other people are thinking or feeling. I don't have to be alone right now though.
Tomorrow I leave to visit my brother in San Diego for a week. I am going to be alone all week exploring the city while he is at work. I hope I am still capable.