It’s really cold outside, the house is quiet except for the sound of laundry spinning in the dryer, and I am feeling a little nostalgic about the year we lived in Illinois. Some one once asked me if I got bored staying at home, and my answer was something like, “Are you kidding?!” I read, I wrote, I volunteered, I cooked a lot… I was anything but bored. As long there are things in this world that I don’t know, I can’t imagine being bored.
I like home. Working feels ridiculous sometimes, and when I think about it too much it seems like an even more ridiculous thing to be doing. Cosmically, working is just me holding up my little part of a system that really needs some adjustment. On the other hand, at least it gets me this: a cold morning at home -my home- with my well-fed dogs and a free hour to sit and drink tea and enjoy my nostalgia. High class worries, as they say.
