I have been putting off posting for a number of reasons, chief among them a lack of cohesive thoughts. For the past several weeks my brain has been like one of those clear hamster balls that frenzied rodents use to scurry around the house without pooping on anything vital. Except instead of one hamster, there are like, fourteen in there, and they all want to go in different directions. Instead of exploring behind the couch or annoying the cat, my brain-hamster-ball just wriggles noiselessly for awhile, and then tumbles down the stairs. Now when people at work ask me how things are going, I look at them with slightly crossed eyes and say, “Like so many hamsters in a single ball,” and they decide not to come in my office anymore.
The big news on our front is that Taylor has gotten himself an internship at a fantastic computer company. You may have heard of it. It rhymes with Bintel. Having grown up in a town where half the population works at Bintel, Taylor has long seen it as Mecca, the Holy Employer who may one day allow him to don one of their protective plastic suits and create The Future in their airtight laboratories. This internship is a step closer to that, and he is deliriously happy, and I am deliriously proud. The only hitch is that Taylor has to live two hours away for the summer.
So I’ll be living alone for the next three months.
After spending three years across the country from each other, this is a mild annoyance at worst, but I’m still a little concerned. I’m a social critter, as I think I’ve said before, and I’ve never really lived on my own before. What do people do all night, when they don’t have somebody to pester? Who do they talk to when they have little epiphanies? These are the questions.
In an effort to stave off insanity, I’m considering starting a Summer Project. You all know how much I love to begin a project. Maybe I will cross-stitch a portrait of Liu Khang, or translate every episode of The Spectacular Spider Man into Portuguese. Maybe I’ll begin a stretching regimen that will eventually enable me to lick my own elbow.
“Maybe you’ll finish your book,” Taylor shouts from the other room.
The idea that’s gotten the most mileage in my tired hamster-brain thus far is trying to draw every day. I’ve really gotten out of the habit of drawing. I used to go everywhere with a clipboard full of cheap printer-paper and spend hours scribbling away, but somewhere around my senior year of college I got frustrated with trying to be good at it and I stopped. Trying to draw something every day is a good way to get back into it. I’m not sure. I’m still thinking.
Taylor leaves for Intern Land in a week. I have until then to figure out what to do with myself in the upcoming long nights alone.