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August 01, 2000
And how was your weekend?
I'm all hyper and wired tonight. I don't know why -- I didn't get anywhere near enough sleep last night. I went to bed at my usual time, around 11 (which is NOT absurdly early, no matter what Patrick tells you! -- but I had left the new Harry Potter book beside the bed. Mistake. I picked it up, meaning to read just a few pages... and then next thing I knew it was 12:45, and I have to be up by six. Whoops. Would it be wrong to call in sick to finish the book? Yeah, I thought so.
My weekend was mostly pleasant, in spite of spending most of it alone. I think I'm getting the hang of it now -- I was perfectly happy puttering around by myself Satirday morning and Sunday. Well, Saturday morning wasn't so nice, because I woke up with a migraine (note to self: stop drinking a glass of wine right before going to sleep. It's a bad, bad thing.) I spend most of the day lying in bed trying not to move, feeling very pitiful. Tucker came in and curled up next to me, with his head on my hip and one paw tucked reassuringly into my hand, and we napped for a while until I felt better. Beth and I watched Sleepy Hollow -- or, rather, I watched it, and Beth snored. She has seen it before, and fell asleep halfway through. Excellent movie. I loved it. I like Tim Burton, and I just love looking at Johnny Depp, so it was all good. When it was over, I left Beth to sleep, and tiptoed out to play games on the computer until it was time for Lee and Patrick to pick me up. I am beyond poor right now, so they bought dinner ingredients and rented a couple of movies (read Patrick's review, he does it much better than I do) and we settled in front of the TV for the evening.
Sunday morning I got up early -- my doctor recommended I find a good church to go to, which was something I had been meaning to do anyway. I tried a little Methodist church near my house, and decided it just didn't suit me. It was eight old people, and me. The old folks gave me the hairy eyeball all through the service, and they had me do a reading, which just made me edgy. I don't like having quite so much attention paid to me right away. The minister was thrilled to see someone under age 65 walk in, so now I feel guilty knowing I probably won't be going back. I have decided to try Park Street Church in downtown Boston next week -- it's huge, and beautiful, and they have a lot more people my own age, which is what I'm looking for. I was raised going to church -- my dad used to be a minister -- and, among other things, I miss the sense of community I always had. I'm accustomed to much smaller, country churches, so this will be very different, but I'm looking forward to it. They have a coffeehouse-type thing on Friday evenings, with live music and such, and I plan to check that out too. Anybody want to go with me?
The rest of Sunday was spent doing chores -- I did laundry, which I always like. This week was much better, though, because I had Harry Potter to read in the laundromat. I got so engrossed that the woman who runs the place had to harrumph at me a few times before I noticed that my dryer had stopped. I went home, cleaned my pigsty of a room, mopped the floors, washed dished, and then collapsed for a while. I had planned to go to my friend Dana's to watch The Simpsons, but I just didn't have the energy to go all the way out to Allston on the T. I called to beg off, and she was relieved, since she had been cleaning too, and was worn out. So I watched TV with the cats, and stayed up too late reading.
I did end up having a fairly nice conversation with my landlord -- last time I talked to him, he went on at great length about how happy and relaxed Barry seemed, living with his girlfriend. I know he didn't mean it the way it came out -- I think he thought I was worried about Barry's well-being, and was trying to tell me that he was okay, but what it came out as was "Barry's so much happier now that you're gone." It hurt a lot, and sent me into a week-long depression, and I have avoided talking to him since. Sunday, I ran into him outside, where he was preparing to trim the hedges. He told me that he never sees Barry, and that it's dark and quiet in his apartment all the time. He also said that he thinks what Barry did was horrible, and that I deserve better. He said "You deserve someone who will love you to bits, and Barry would never do that. So now you're free to find someone better." It was nice to hear -- it almost made up for what he'd said before.
I hear Harry calling me from the other room now... must go read...
Posted by Mary Ellen at August 1, 2000 04:13 PM