Sunday Solitude

Just missing Morgan today. The house feels lopsided with only three furbles. I’ve realized I’m tired–emotionally tired. I’m tired of of loss, I’m missing hanging out with my friends, I’m tired of people who don’t give a fuck about others besides them, I’m tired of the Covid deniers/anti-vaxxers, I’m tired of the summer.

I want cool autumn days, a rain soaked yard, the bracing chill of November winds, I want that feeling of calm quietude, the cushioned softness that cloudy days bring to me. I would love to curl up in the living room with close friends, but since it’s not going to happen, I want to bring things around me that feel comforting.

I know that I’m tired from a long, rough summer, and so I’m looking for places to ease up. The minute I go on Twitter, I feel anxiety and–too often–anger. FB is overwhelming in a number of ways. And the energy YouTube takes to make videos–right now I’m not up to it. So I’m retreating to Netflix and Hulu and just texting a few friends and talking to some of my author friends on Zoom. I’ve dropped several Facebook groups that I don’t have the energy for, and set up a hard line on saying ‘No’ to so many things right now.

I’m hoping all of this will leave me room to just write and feel recharged.