Well, it’s been a while.
Nearly three hours of my life five days a week are dedicated to commuting between Charlottesville and Richmond. It makes me angry, because I fell like I don’t get to enjoy living in this place except for weekends, which sometimes consist of going out of town and enjoying life. If not for my staycation, a day I could work from Richmond and a sick day, I would not have spent a single hour in this place by myself.
I’m tired of not being home. I’m tired of only seeing my place for three whole hours before having to prepare for bed. Other than going to brunch and Target, I didn’t leave today, and I’m OK with that. But I’m not OK with that, because I live in Richmond but I’m not really enjoying it. I haven’t even reconnected with a lot of people yet, but that’s partially because so much has changed in the past three years.
At times, it feels like I’ve been in prison and I need to re-integrate into a society that has an exponential amount of technology over when I went in. I mean, I typically didn’t have weekends, so to some people, I’ve just been dead to the world since December 2011. Or those magical three months I was back in 2012.
We don’t have proper furniture yet, but that hasn’t been a problem because we’ve only had one real guest since moving in. We’ve been doing bits and pieces for the moment. I bought a floor lamp today, and it was entirely too satisfying. I still need to buy a new bookcase and get all my CDs out of my trunk.
I still need to type up my Christmas messages. I have nowhere to put LSW.
I’m really resenting not being able to enjoy being back in RVA. On occasion, I hear the phrase “You can’t go home again” in my head (and some times “irony”), and my response is “You shut your whore mouth.”
But I’m not king of the city anymore. Everyone has learned to get along here without me.
I’ve been reading One Hundred Years of Solitude, and it’s taking way longer than it should.
I don’t feel settled yet. It’s obvious from the spartan surroundings in this loft. It’s obvious from my commute. It’s obvious from how everything still seems to be on pause.
What’s happened since we’ve talked last?
Well, I spent Thanksgiving at my mother-in-law’s house in Newport News. At one point, I went to my mom’s house and, to be honest, it’s pretty weird to be in that house with just my mom and the dining room being the dining room again.
I went to Northern Virginia last weekend for a brother’s trip. We didn’t get hammered, and we were in bed by 1 a.m. In fact, it’s about 1:30 right now, and this is the latest I’ve been in an obscenely long time. Just this past Friday night, Blaine stopped by on his way to a wedding and we were back from the bar and sleeping before midnight.
My barber noted that my hair is thinning and suggested some vitamins “to fight it as long as you can.”Beyond me being OK with going bald and grey early, I fear looking more like Sasquatch if I take any kind of anything that encourages hair growth.
I’m between two sizes of contacts. One makes me sightly nearsighted and the other slightly farsighted. The farsighted ones feel the closest to my glasses. I was also told I’ll probably have cataracts one day. Another eye doctor said I’ll probably tear a retina one day.
I’ve gained about 30 pounds this year despite my intake of junk food being little to none. But I’ve noticed I’ve become ravenously hungry three times a day when I’m up at 6 a.m. and go to bed at 10 p.m. Back when I got up at 9 at the earliest for work, I ate very little.
You have no idea how much I’ve played the attached song since Dec. 7. Four years prior, it was another day that will live in infamy. At least for me.
I’ll be OK. In a couple months, we’ll have room to entertain, I’ll break back into the social scene and my commute won’t bother me.
It’s just that my entire world has changed. A lot.
This is the new normal, but I haven’t figured out what normal is yet.