Solitude

Holy shit. I just looked at what’s up for me this week and here’s what I see: Today I have a lunch date with a dear friend and then, right after, a meeting with the lawyer I hired to help probate my ward’s will. Then, tomorrow, someone is coming to my apartment to treat it for ants.

Next week, I am going out for dinner on Monday night and to a dinner party on Friday. The week after that, I see my respiratory therapist and my pulmonologist and I go to another party. That’s the rest of the month for me: Four play dates, one meeting with a lawyer and two medical appointments.

I’ll be able to add two lunch dates with Dwight. We have lunch every week but we don’t schedule them. Ours is a loose and comfortable friendship. But still, I feel isolated—is that the right word? Dwight has remarked about how much I talk about being alone.

Reflections on solitude:

• When I had a libido and wanderlust, I never noticed how much time I spent alone.
• I need solitude and I hate it at the same time; I live a “grass is greener” existence; when I am alone I want company and when I am with people I want to be alone.     
• I started walking for exercise but now I walk to kill time.
• I am a proud creator of mediocrity but I cannot abide reading or watching mediocre work—thank God I am creative given the amount of time I have to fill.
• Chores are positively engaging and both the slow way and the longer route are preferred and efficiency is no longer a desire.
• “Self” looms large; I have to be aware of how much I talk when with others.