Post weekend o' mayhem I scrubbed my carpet, I swept, mopped, I replaced furniture, and I passed the fuck out. Yesterday I was not pleasant, I was sleepy, I was irritable, I needed some time to myself. This is why I need to live with these kidz. Because I love them, and mostly just want to be around them all the time, but need my own space to escape to every now and again.
I used to get like this (x's 10) every time visitors came and left, a sentimental sort of emptiness. Lately I've been having lots and lots of "I don't know what to do with myself" moments, and I think I know what this means, but it is still a little unsettling none the less. There is some hint of deeper sadness in this, just a drop, but it is something I have not felt in so long, I am not sure what to do with it. But yesterday, I was sitting, half asleep (as that is how I spent my whole day) thinking about how much different I am, really, if I look at myself a year ago and look at myself now, I have rediscovered my inner child, the one that is not so afraid of what people will think, the one that just wants to dance around and do hand stands and enjoy things. I was always trying to catch up with my cousins, trying to act older than I really was, trying to impress them. Now I trust that each age has its own sort of wisdom, and to deny yourself the perspective of the age you actually are is to deny yourself some important learning experiences.
At a certain point, when we were standing on the porch watching birds, talking about this and that he said "Oh, to be 20 again" which is something people always say, that doesn't make sense to me ("oh, you'll understand when you are older," I don't want to.) I suspect each age has it's value, I suspect our ups and downs have nothing to do with how old we are at all. I also have a hunch that each age is not so different as we make it out to be. Last week, I had the same weird break downs I used to have when I was little, one involving tears that I did not understand, a moment where I was terribly upset and had no inkling as to why. We change, but at the same time we are rather static.
I am desperate for something to happen with this, but doing my best not to push or shove, doing my best to be calm (though I wake up in the middle of the night singing "desperation is the devil's work, it is the folly of a boy's empty mind"). Yesterday I fell asleep in the living room, while my roommates watched a movie or two and I woke up every hour, ate pizza, fell back asleep. It was strange, my computer glowing next to my head the whole time, waiting for something, waiting for nothing. For the first time in a long time, I am not fully satisfied, and that is a comfort, it means I am ready for something new.