I sit alone again. Well, not exactly alone as my little dog slumbers on her perch beside me. The future ex-husband has gone off to the fitness center and my daughter naps in her room. My eyes are fuzzy from reading and I’m fighting off the urge to eat something out of sheer boredom.
It scares me to think that this is how it will be when I’m on my own. I must have things to do. I guess I could work on the project I’ve been carrying in my work tote for the last 2 weeks, but I want to enjoy the time away from my job.
My previous optimism is fading in the face of dullness. I have always had these times but they weren’t as ominous as they are now. Usually, I sit with a glass of wine until 8 p.m. or so and then go to bed. By morning I usually have my spirit restored. Sometimes, however, I have whole weekends where the highlight is doing laundry.
I could pay bills. We got our checks early thanks to a mistake in the payroll department. That wouldn’t cheer me any to see that I have to dip into the line of credit to buy groceries, again.
I need a walk. Maybe I’ll put on my sneakers and pop a tape into my ancient cassette tape player (remember them?) and go for a walk. It is still early enough to be safe. Yes, I think I will.
No, I think not. I just heard a gunshot in the distance. Payday weekend. What the hell was I thinking?