Awoke with dread and crap thoughts about my lack of progress on any artistic fronts. I am tired.
I have indeed been socializing more. It feels like I need a break even though my version of socializing more is going out three times a week instead of the usual zero. Last night was Mark and Dan and Pasta Pesto. We watched the Super 8 home movies from years back that Mark had finally gotten developed. You know it was sad. I was so young and long haired - and I must say: in my day, I was a hottie hot. This was five years ago. Mark and I also saw footage of a trip to DC we made which neither of us remember when/why/where we stayed, etc.
My head is muddled. The cat requires a good deal of my home attention. It is just a visit. Have I told you that I think she's very cute, and I regard her with love? I'm merely sorry that I'm not ready. I'm no single parent. Mark always played with her, and I did the cuddling. Oh, I've told you this, but it weighs heavy on me - this surprise of not wanting a cat. Besides, she causes allergies and reminds me of what I have - by her prescence - set upon for my visitations.