The sound of sadness

Okay, I'm not dejected or depressed or morose. Or bummed out or sad to be here or thinking I made the wrong move. On the contrary, I'm happy for the change. But I have been silent. And slow to action. And loathe to email. And even further afield from making phone calls. Feh. (And let's tip-toe right over that word "Daily" emblazoned on my blog moniker, shall we?).

For me silence is the sound of sadness. I have dramatic tendencies in conversation (ask Lisa if she likes beets), and when finding humor in situations, and in my playwriting. But I am less emotive out in the world. Less ready to say, "hey look at me, I feel like crying! Hey, you know what? I miss my friends! I miss those damned kittens that drove me crazy and then grew up to be cute and friendly and around all the time! I'm sad I missed meeting Twilight's new baby because he was being born while I was driving to my new state." Nope that's not me, not my words, not even my awareness. My awareness, instead, is lack. Like a lobotomy. Not a lot of talking. A whole lot of busy (had some deadlines this week). And a whole lot of moving slow. (Isn't it weird the kitchen ALWAYS needs cleaning?)

I'm in the land of disconnect...where I am no longer where I was, and not fully materialized into where I am.

I'm in an in-between world, like waking up from a nap, not quite out of dream world. That might explain prolific dreaming since I've been here.

I'm looking forward to some solidity, so I can call my friends and talk and tell them all is well. And thank Tania for the little sauce pan. And everyone else for the going-away love.

Only today did the weather turn to gray, from spectacular sunshine. I'm really happy about that, because I've been down in the basement working all day the past week, and the weather change makes me feel less guilty about missing the sun for the sake of work. (I made a little office in the basement.)

So that you don't think it's all bad, here are a couple of bits of word lint I picked up in recent days:

I went on a bike ride with a nice guy whose house I looked at to rent. We took a spectacular path all around the river and then along it. We stopped after several miles to rest at the end of a little wooden dock, jutting out into water, surrounded by hills and evergreens and Portland bridges. We talked and stretched. He got up at one point, and bent at the waist to stretch his hamstrings. He looked through his legs upside down and commented, "Wow, the view between my legs is really cool!"

A few days later, Gina brought home burritos.

GINA: I didn't know what kind of salsa you like, red or green, so I brought both.

ME: I like both. I'm bi-salsa identified.

I realize I need to update the cast of characters on the side of my blog, but I'm not quite ready for that. When I defrag into Portland more fully, I'll do it.