Tuesday, August 08, 2006

It occurred to me that part of the reason why I'm so miserable, so jumpy, so wanting to get the hell out of here right now is that normally now, I'd be up in Maine. A couple of friends invited me up to their family's camp, but it was for two weeks and I wasn't comfortable with that. I'd thought of running off to France again, but twice in a month during peak season's way too rich for my blood.

Right now, I'm trying to stave off the sadness by reading stories of strong women in Maine and essays by a strong woman comfortable with her alone-ness (something I have to relearn), as well as trying to take day trips around town.

It all makes me feel just a little bit less wretched, and stops the torturing, sehnsuchtensvoll thoughts of somebody way too far away from me for short stretches, so I should be thankful for that bit of an escape, anyhow.


My mother's on a campaign now to get me to move back to the Heimatsstadt and to live with her. She's worried about me, she says. Mmh-hmm, sure: spending more than the two-three hours a year with her that I currently do would fix me alright; I'm sure of it.

(From Grimpen Mire)

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