let lemons be angry

The day began with three hugs. Two from my parents while I was still sleepy in bed, goodbye hugs before they left for the airport. One from the dog-cat--he jumped up on my couch to cuddle, and wrapped a paw around my waist.

I think hugs made all the difference. I went about my many tasks rather happily. I like living alone, having to think about things like getting petrol and a new shower curtain, and driving from place to place instead of walking. I've learnt to deal with eating alone too. It just gets a little awkward when there's too much silence; I try talking to myself and get tired of that.

One more week to relative freedom, I keep telling myself. I know next Friday will come soon. The year passes too quickly. I'm not ready for Christmas yet. Last year we were walking down orchard road at night looking at the christmas lightup, and feeling very sorry for ourselves. We didn't say it, but I think we thought this year would be different. It is different, but not in the way I'd imagined. I couldn't have predicted this comfortable plateau, these steady independent days.

(To think I wouldn't have made my bottle opener necklace if I hadn't thought excessively about a creative Christmas present last year. I never gave the present away, and now some people think it's my trademark.)