Left Out
Since I have been unemployed, I have begun to sequester myself in the den for nearly the entire day. This limits the scope of perspective quite a bit, and turns the focus inward. This is not always a bad thing, nor is it necessarily a good thing.
The den in my apartment is a dark room full of computers and software and random crap. Not much for feng shui, and not really connected to the natural world. We keep all the blinds drawn to defeat the heat--and to hide the fact that I walk around in various states of undress, as a habit--but we aren't really blocking much. Our windows open on a spectacular view of the building next to us.
Sure, I could leave, but I don't know where I would go. Besides, if I left, I wouldn't be here. So I stare at the monitor all day. It has become what I do, so I have an answer when people ask me.
The problem with having only one friend is that you have none when that one goes away. They always go away, and so you have these periods where you are without. Wes has lots of little friends and acquaintances, people I have met. But those are his friends. I don't venture into that territory because I get the feeling there is a big NO TRESPASSING sign implied there. So, right now, my only friend is a bird who bites my hands until they bleed, every other day.
God, I need to get a job, a hobby, or both.
I am looking forward to the beginning of National Novel Writing Month on November 1. It will be nice to have a purpose. It will be wonderful to have something to occupy my mind all day, besides pondering on the various physical faults that plague me. A goal is a good thing.
It also gives me a reason to know what day it is.
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