Glum
Have been feeling generally disconnected and fragmented in recent weeks.
Which is a little weird, because this past week has, socially, gone pretty well. On Monday morning I finally got moving and contacted a variety of Bostonians I wanted to see (though not, sadly, all of them), and made plans with many of them; since then I've had meals and/or walks and/or hangings-out with half a dozen of them, and it's been great seeing people. Lots of reconnecting—I can't believe I let two and a half years go by since last time I was out here. So far I've met two of the three small children that local friends of mine have produced since I was last here; I'm hoping to meet the third tonight. Lots of cool conversations (personal, political, historical, philosophical, etc) with cool people who I don't see nearly often enough. (Next time I come to Boston, I'm going to try again to actually schedule time with people before I arrive, to improve the chances of seeing more people more than once. But I've said that before, and I never seem to actually do it.) Also, I'm doing much more walking than I do at home, and exercise is good for me. Also, have had a couple of good phone conversations with people who I don't see often and who don't live out here.
Nonetheless, I'm spending too much of the time when I'm not actually conversing with friends feeling grumpy and glum and off-balance and fragile and irritable and tense. The part of that that I'm comfortable talking about publicly mostly comes down to not having any space to myself. Been sleeping in friends' living rooms and such; I'm used to mostly having my whole apartment to myself, and the lack of privacy and space is taking its toll. This weekend, I'll be sort of house-sitting, and except for a friendly greyhound there won't be anyone else in the house; although I feel bad about not spending every waking moment hanging out with Boston friends, I think it'll be good for me to spend a while without anyone else around. And to head home on Tuesday.
