Expectations

I hate writing a new blog after a particularly well received blog post. I feel sometimes that I might crumble under the pressure. However, I was reminded yesterday, that some people are interested in keeping up with my moods. SO....here you go:

My first full day off work was a bust. I suppose. I sat on the couch in the living room for about five hours arranging my music library and watching Sportsnight. I also ate some soggy leftovers and a bag of microwave popcorn. Enough happened to make me realize that this sucks. I've got to get out. I know, I should volunteer! Or I might go to Chicago. ;)

Having nothing to do reminds me of all the crap still stuck in my brain. In other words: it depresses me. The silence...even the lack of silence...through the long hours of nothingness, screams in my ears, and all those memories and pictures of days past come flooding back. So, I did what any sane person would do. I stopped trying fight it, and I just looked at the pictures I had loaded on my computer. I wish I had taken more pictures. I mean, of the normal every day things. I wish I had more pictures of me on the tube, or just people on the tube. I wish I had taken more pictures of all the little English houses, carbon copies of each other, little chimneys sprouting out of the roofs, stretched out across the horizon. However, I spent most of the time with my gloved hands tucked deep into the pockets of my coat.

I am entering into a new phase of this whole business. The miserable ache is gone. I'm now left with a faint, very faint, hint of the pain that was drowning me. It doesn't feel final though. It feels in be-tween, however. I don't know why. Just...like a shifting...nothing final. I was thinking about the pain, you know, the blinding pain part, and I actually kind of missed it. It seemed to have a little more direction than this...a greater purpose. I'm sure there's purpose in the transitions. I'm positive. It's just not as much...fun.