In the Air Tonight

I'm listening to Phil Collins (don't ask) and feeling lonely. Bob has started travelling again, and thus I descend into the interminable nights when I sit alone in our empty house talking to the dogs and watching Hulu until I finally fall asleep. It's nights like this that remind me of high school, sitting on my dad's iMac late into the night chatting with friends on the internet, discovering new music, taking baths, and reading Tolstoy. I thought those days were the beginning of something great. I knew I'd fall in love with a musician (and had one in mind), and I figured the rest of my life would be a continuation in kind.

I've always enjoyed alone time. Time to sit and think and read and please no one but myself. It has been quite a while since I felt like I could do that. I felt like the second the music/tv/book stopped, was the second my mind would start playing it's slideshow of pity, something I have to desire to live through. So I would constantly barrage myself with media in an attempt to (not in a scary way) drown out the voices in my head. And you know what I've found? It's harder to avoid than to actually feel and remember and think and sulk. It hasn't made me weaker.

Hello Cassandra, it's nice to hear from you again. It's been a long time.

Next goals: Forgiveness, Honesty.

Public Service Announcement: I learned a lot from my visit to a hospital's micro lab today, but most importantly, vaccinate your kids. Seriously, vaccinate them. Protect me from short Southern women, and vaccinate them.