April 11, 2004

cloud cover

I spent yesterday in a fairly low-key manner.

I dropped in at the paint store to pick up a pint of new linen white (eggshell) and to tell Andrew that yes, I'd have coffee with him. Andrew being the fella who works at my friendly nieghborhood paint store, that I'd "maybed" earlier in the week.

I bought groceries. And Gerber daisies.

I took my book to Central Park where I sat in the sun (with intermittent passing local cloud cover) reading for a few hours.

Then I went home and let it get dark on me.

I paced my small apartment, having put on yet another movie I didn't watch, exchanged a few meaningful phrases with voicemails of friends and family. And waited for none of them to call back. It was saturday night.

I took a hot bath. I made tea.

And then I sat in my bedroom, missing Kitten and Roommate and wondering what the fuck I have just done. Why am I here? Why have I exchanged everything I knew to feel cut off? To be the abandoned and the abandoner all at once?

How many of these wonderfully dark moments am I going to have before this all makes sense? Where nothing is real, except maybe feeling like I've made some tragically stupid trade -- a handful of beads for the island of Manhattan. Well, last night, I wanted my silly beads back. I haven't traded up. I've just traded. And I wanted to undo it... to undo the move which lost me my little furry pain in the ass Kitten and separated me from all that is familiar and normal.

I should be embarassed to say I cried myself to sleep. But what the fuck. That's what happened. Because I don't know what I've done. And I want to undo it.

Or maybe that's just the passing local cloud cover talking.

Posted by This Fish at April 11, 2004 06:15 PM
Comments

Hang in there, and soon you'll be able to bask in both the sun and the clouds. :)

Sorry about poor Kitten, though.

Posted by: Plish at April 11, 2004 09:29 PM

you still have your readers, fish. any chance of Kitten returning?

Posted by: amber at April 11, 2004 09:57 PM

no advice. just loads of internet support for ya.

(p.s. sorry for all the finger taps i gave you on friday... i was just so happy to see you!!!!!)

Posted by: sassylittlepunkin at April 11, 2004 11:36 PM

I know you know this--it takes a fair amount of time to make new place home, to form a social network and all that. In the meantime, it can be so lonely and leads to second-guessing. As someone else said, hang in there, and treat your self with gentleness and kindness.

Posted by: nanner at April 11, 2004 11:54 PM

I have a couple of spare bottles of champagne I could let you have. I'll leave them in the third stall from the left in the Ladies restroom at Grand Central Station....

Posted by: John at April 12, 2004 07:36 AM

There is a light at the end of this very short tunnel. You belong with us Little Fish.

I thought of you that night in the candy section of CVS. You need a PO Box for mini-egg donations.

Posted by: Jonathan at April 12, 2004 09:05 AM

Smooch on cheek.

Hug.

No bitchslap. Been there. Done that. Know how it feels. Don't worry...it's been a short amount of time and there's always second guessing to be done when these major decisions have been made.

Just know you are loved and supported and the network of friends you built prior to moving here are always there to lend you a hand or a shoulder to lean on...you're not alone at all.

Posted by: Brian, the 646 Guy at April 12, 2004 10:17 AM

Yes, it's passing cloud cover. Give it a bit and you know it will be social whirls and which pet boy shall I dump this week.

Of course, I recommend a pet rabbit myself. They still use a litter tray, but it doesn't smell. Plus there's the added advantage of no loose wires messing up the decor 'cause you have to make sure they're out of range of bunny-nibbles. But maybe I'm just rabbit-mad...

Posted by: Lisa at April 12, 2004 10:18 AM

sounds like the culture shock has set in early.
"in time, this too shall pass."
and, yes, the temptation to clock the individual that dared say that to me was huge when a certain individual said it.
but you know it did. all three times I went through it. and through it I experienced many kewl things, trying to make it go away.

Posted by: bikefox at April 12, 2004 01:06 PM