Me, myself and I
Tin and I took a stroll on the bayou at dusk watching the setting sun and the half moon rising. He’s a good walker, I like that. Later, we came home and he had a waffle and scrambled eggs and a pear for dinner. Eating his waffle he said, “This is good.” For a nightcap we watched the Louis Armstrong DVD I purchased a year ago – best darn purchase I ever made. He tickled my feet while I lounged on the sofa. Then he went to bed.
A friend said she would stop by but I took the luxury of closing the shades early because I am grooving on being alone. I am lucky to have someone to love and miss, and yet I find that life has become so filled with work, relationship, child, and so forth that I rarely have a moment to myself.
Writers need time to be by themselves. We live in a world in our heads or may I say we live in words in our heads and we have to have space to descramble and recompose thoughts, past and present, that vie for publication. I think this weekend I went mad with Twitter and Facebook and the blog trying to rush to spring clean my brain.
I am a lover of people and a craver of solitude – and fine with the contradiction.