That’s where I didn’t go today. Forth. As in, out of my house. Okay, I’m lying. I went out once to check my email this morning (next door) and then I have ventured out again this evening…a full twelve hours later…to write tonight. Needless to say, there have been no cakes in the shape of American flags, no grilling, and no fireworks (and no sparklers, dangit) for me this year. That’s just fine with me.
Have I mentioned I don’t much like holidays? I mean, I like days off just fine. I don’t enjoy things like the Fourth of July very much. I find Christmas incredibly tensifying. I end up wishing that everyone would just relax. For several years now Christmas with my mom has been highly relaxing, but I am always afraid any day now I’ll be forced to put on my party dress and my red patent leather Mary Janes (by the way, I’d love a pair of those in my size now) and have to go to a family party that lasts for hours and at which my sister and I are the only people under forty…or even the only people under twelve. I much prefer to hang out barefoot in the sun, take a walk to the beach, do a project or watch a movie or something. You know, open a couple of presents, sure, but not get too excited about it. That’s the best kind of holiday for me.
And so that’s the kind of day I’ve had. As I’ve mentioned before, days off don’t mean much to the unemployed, so having nothing to do wasn’t so exciting. I didn’t have clinic today, though, which reminds me I haven’t checked that voicemail for over a week! So I didn’t see clients for the first Thursday since Valentine’s Day. No, wait. I’m lying again. Since I went to Disney. So, since April. So I celebrated by sleeping in pretty late, and then reading a book, and then getting up and letting the cat out and making breakfast and checking my email, and then reading a book, and then sitting on the couch, and reading a book, and then having lunch, and reading a book, and then falling asleep for a while, and then waking up and reading a book, and then calling Carl and then reading a book, and then having dinner and reading a book, and then coming to the other house to write this entry. I finished one book and started and finished another one today. They’re re-reads though, so don’t get too impressed.
Single life’s been pretty good so far, I guess. I mean, I’ve had almost a week and a half of it! Yeah! Single life! Woo! As predicted, I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary yet, except talk until really late with Abi and do some touristy stuff and go to the spa. I haven’t even gone to rent any BBC historical dramas yet…I mean, I was busy today, okay? I was reading. Tomorrow, though, I have errands, so I promise you I’ll get in the car and buy some stuff, and I’ll go by the library and get a new load of books, and before I go to the co-op I’ll stop by Scarecrow and I’ll get something good. And that’s what I’ll do Friday night, in my spinster-y glory. Although, if memory serves…and you know, it should, seeing as how I have been single way longer than I’ve been partnered, in the grand scheme of life…I think I was not that much more social before I started with Carl. It’s hard to say. I know I saw a lot of very good movies when I lived in Claremont by myself, but I also seem to recall having a lot of people come over a lot. So I guess it’s just the same. Oh well. No huge realizations about being single vs. being with someone right now. Sorry.
No huge realizations about anything, actually, at the moment. I just feel like writing a little, about nothing much. A couple of people emailed me to say it was probably fine for me to write about anything that I judged approproiate for something-less-than-mass consumption, so I guess all my worries are for naught. I guess I can feel free to write all the boring and incoherent entries I want, right? I knew you’d be relieved.