Yesterday Sunday was a funny day that Someone took the car to go to work and I was ‘home alone’ from morning until late at night. I spent the day tidying up, cleaning and doing all the laundry. The clean shirts were all ironed and put away for once. It was a very productive day. Normally I wouldn’t mind such a day, nay, I enjoy would enjoy it, but by 7PM the silence was effecting my nerves. I realized I hadn’t uttered a word all day or spoken to anyone. No one called and nobody was seen. I cannot remember when I last felt alone like this. I tried calling a few folks and I sent out some emails, but there were no responders.

Quiet and isolation (on top of a relatively cleaned household) is probably good for the soul (mine anyway) but I couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort. From the office I could hear great-aunt Marion’s clock ticking away the time, and every half hour the ship clock chimed its bells, announcing another thirty minutes of life had gone by. I thought to myself, if I were to die right now, no one would know. It was a curious slightly unsettling sensation.

I wrote this on Sunday night in this quiet still state of being. Someone probably came home after I went to bed, which I did soon do after I finished writing this and scheduled it for a Monday morning posting. He probably slept in The Dragon Room, where he goes to be by himself after a long upsetting workday, so I won’t see him until Monday morning.

Tomorrow (which is Monday) I will go to work and be around people all day; it will be ‘life as usual’. Sunday will seem a dream, and not exactly a good one. Funny how we often want peace and quiet and getting away from the others, yet when we do it isn’t as calming as one imagines it to be.