Painting the backdrop

I always think of social down time (no one calls, nothing to do, nobody to talk to) as time to paint the scenery. When the theatre is closed and the curtains are drawn, it's time to sew the buttons back on the costumes and touch up the backdrop again.

Except those times are kind of rubbish.

Today I discovered some great new music on NPR's Tiny Desk series, and there was no one to share my enthusiasm with. This is also why I hate travelling alone: all that joy and (metaphorical) ice cream and nobody's nose to lick (if you know, you know. if you don't, i'm not sure you'd want to).

I whinged a little to Julian (being able to do so is quite a luxury). But he still had to go out and couldn't stay to keep me company. So I photographed things, cleaned the flat a little, cooked myself a nice dinner, and read. Then I realized that as much as I hate these times, they're necessary and beneficial. I also realized that I can bring momentum into my own life, and that sense of mental and physical progression goes a long way to keep me sane.

... and of course it would be unreasonable to expect my life to be a party all day and all night all the time.

So here's to feeling desperately lonely sometimes.