Its All In a Day's Work: Solo and Thinking

Well, The slow trickle has begun to pool; I am here, officially. Sure, we arrived a week ago, but now its just me and the dogs--Marissa has departed for her next chapter and I have begun mine. With her exit came the realization and the gravity of what I have begun.

I've always considered myself an individual, jazzed on the idea of alone time. I have always been one to exit the party early, for a retreat to the safety of my own room. However, in a home of my own, there is no escape from myself. So, today I came home and napped a good nap. I awoke from my nap, and took the dogs for an early evening stroll--once again Marissa's absence was noted, as I had to wrangle Chops and Flow, but it worked. Came home and stared at the tossed salad look of my apartment. I Skyped with my mom, and as always she gave me a little of the guiding light; I went to work after our chat.

I moved books here and there; I put things in cubby-holes; I swept the floor; I used iTunes genius to create a playlist or two; I talked to myself; I placed pictures on the walls; I wrestled Chops to the ground; I found my debit card; I sat in the middle of the room and stared; I ate some rice; I answered an email from my bestfriend (he did it, like I knew he would).

The waiting of the beginning: so many weeks spent hurling forward, it is a wonder to sit. With sitting, comes the wandering of my mind, and the wandering brings a myriad of emotions and thoughts. I am going to be social tomorrow night. Tonight was about silence and adjustments.

I have a zit on the side of my neck, on the side that my shoulder typically hurts. I feel as if the zit is a tiny volcano risen from the plate tectonics of my inner contortions; when I poke my zit, it resonates into the other tight spots. Funny.

I dig Al Green. A thought: perhaps I will become an Al Green cover artist in D.F. I think I could carve out my nitch.

"Call Me" is my favorite song by Al Green.

Its all in a day's work.