"And I will be rocks, I will be water"

It's an unbearably long and quiet day at work, and so instead of working, I'm writing bad poetry and trying to figure out what I'm going to do with the idea of being someone a little more solitary. I know it was my very own choice, and I believe it was the right one, but I know that it's going to be a shift, and I hope it's going to be a healthy one. I think I'll probably end up writing more, since I'll be talking less, and I'm trying to keep the change deliberative and measured and remember that being girlfriendless doesn't necessarily mean that I'm going to finally get the dog, or take the artisan's alley class, or go to class at my gym, or work on developing either new friendships, or old friendships, or new causes, or conquer yeast bread and the cake cookbook.

And it seems contradictory, to think that I want more solitude, and yet to become more involved in my community, however I end up defining what falls inside of "my" and what falls outside. And I know one doesn't always get to select one's own society, sometimes temperament or schedule or simple lack of a shared past make some groups closed off. And I know that I'm a sour grapes kind of girl, that when I can't have something, it's very important for me to find a way to not want it, so there are some unfortunate paths I could head down. But I think I'm in a place where I can try.

Light agrees it has been at least four years, that somehow the move from Northampton to Somerville changed me from someone who didn't want to be talked to for at least the first half hour after I came home, to someone who really, truly, wants to be around him (or someone else. but mostly him) all the time. And while I don't want to go back to the place where I'm basically an ill tempered badger for the first hour after my workday ends, I'd like to find out what happens when I'm quieter.

Adventuretime?

"And I will be rocks, I will be water"

It's an unbearably long and quiet day at work, and so instead of working, I'm writing bad poetry and trying to figure out what I'm going to do with the idea of being someone a little more solitary. I know it was my very own choice, and I believe it was the right one, but I know that it's going to be a shift, and I hope it's going to be a healthy one. I think I'll probably end up writing more, since I'll be talking less, and I'm trying to keep the change deliberative and measured and remember that being girlfriendless doesn't necessarily mean that I'm going to finally get the dog, or take the artisan's alley class, or go to class at my gym, or work on developing either new friendships, or old friendships, or new causes, or conquer yeast bread and the cake cookbook.

And it seems contradictory, to think that I want more solitude, and yet to become more involved in my community, however I end up defining what falls inside of "my" and what falls outside. And I know one doesn't always get to select one's own society, sometimes temperament or schedule or simple lack of a shared past make some groups closed off. And I know that I'm a sour grapes kind of girl, that when I can't have something, it's very important for me to find a way to not want it, so there are some unfortunate paths I could head down. But I think I'm in a place where I can try.

Light agrees it has been at least four years, that somehow the move from Northampton to Somerville changed me from someone who didn't want to be talked to for at least the first half hour after I came home, to someone who really, truly, wants to be around him (or someone else. but mostly him) all the time. And while I don't want to go back to the place where I'm basically an ill tempered badger for the first hour after my workday ends, I'd like to find out what happens when I'm quieter.

Adventuretime?