I tend to prize solitude and seek moments being alone. This week forced me to revisit some of my premises about my domestic premises. On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights I was back home, having been required to go back to work (not enough vacation days) while Spousal Unit and Irishstep Daughter cavorted at camp. Especially on the first two nights, I slept poorly. (Well, some of that, at least on Wednesday evening, may've been fueled by the espresso I had while having al fresco desserts with AnimatorSon and BalletDaughter at
Frankie's Piccolo Bistro.) I stayed up later than usual, browsing the Double U Times 3 and reading and et cetera. Yeah, especially that et cetera. It's as if, contrary me, missed the friction, had no one to bounce off of, had no one against which solitariness provided a context, a refuge, or a backdrop. Coming into a house absent of the dog or children or wife, seemed, well, empty. (The cats don't count, all right. And only pisscat Nickie was around until Friday morning, when his nemesis Tommy sauntered home.)
So, this afternoon, upon arriving back, upon distributing the capillaried collection of clutter, what do you think I did?
Took a nap in the back room, by myself.
Go figure: the capillaried complications and configurations of self and context and solitude and space and time.
(Already missing BalletDaughter as she soon wings her way eastward across the night sky into the Berliner dawn. God bless.)
7 comments:
As long as the main arteries aren't clogged you'll be okay, but boredom is another problem altogether. I'm the same damned way. Complain when everyone's home and can't wait to they get back.
JR,
What are you doing awake? What am I doing not sleeping? Oh well. Night owls are night owls.
I yearn for silence and solitutde- no baby demanding my attention, no husband to leave his socks on the floor, no dog to yell at to stop barking, no cat to stop tripping me as he winds around me feet - all of these things culminate on a daily basis and bring me to the brink of insanity. And yet, on those rare occasions, the husband has the baby and dog elsewhere, and the cat is in cat hiding, I miss the turmoil. And the noise.
By nature, humans are not solitary creatures. We are pack animals, and even though we may like the solace of ourselves, it's nice to always have some background noise.
I tend to enjoy solitude, especially if it involves naps. But when I awaken and I'm ready to face the world again it's nice to have someone else around. ;-)
Invite me to Frankie's Piccolo Bistro for an entre of Shrimp Alla Bionda...Solitude has its place, preferably by my design only...
Its crazy right? its all comotion or dead silence. Where is that perfect balance?
Well, it's a relative universe, so relative solitude in relation to one's relatives is the best kind.
Puss
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