I'm in another place, geographically. Mentally as well, perhaps. I'm looking forward to being home but for now I am in a place that is a second home, albeit one I come to reluctantly.
Yet I am calm being here at the moment as I try to settle into some form of relaxation. I am alone in the house, something I'm not entirely used to anymore with a person having lived in my house for the past month.
Tomorrow there will be someone here and I'll likely go to work. I tend to work all of the time I am here because that's what I always did around my family. I didn't really want to sit and watch television when I was a kid so I went into the basement and messed around on computers. Turns out I was more interested in the writing and the creation than the computing aspects. I still don't really know how to maximize these things, but see them as tools that have helped me be an archivist and a reporter.
Tonight I need to take a break and not get right into writing about the Constitutional crisis underway. Last night I stayed up until past eleven going through meetings of the General Assembly to document what I could for the newsletter. I've had no response and that makes me worry that maybe I shouldn't have spent the time on that.
Yet, I telegraphed it in promotional materials I wrote for the week. I think it has been worth it to spend time on this topic but right now I want to ease off for a moment and just be in a space where it has already gone dark. Winter is among us now, or something like that. I'm not sure I can really say much more about that or anything else.
I don't feel like being festive and don't feel like relaxing. I don't really feel like doing anything. I'm out of my routine because at home I would be in a good space.
Am I in one now?
I don't really want to answer that at this moment. I am simply here. And I'm trying to figure out what that means. But I figure I'd describe what the water looks like from this vantage point in the journey.
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