My weekends are full of fun and joy and adventure. My weekdays are not. Most weeks, Michael is gone and when he is home, he is closeted in the basement for ten to twelve hours a day working. From 8-2:45 I am on my own. I clean and I cook. I exercise and walk the dogs. I grocery shop.
I am grateful I don't have a job. I need this time. I need this time to figure things out and think and take care of myself. I am so happy I have this time.
But sometimes the hours are empty. I get homesick. I miss my mom. I miss my dad. I miss the camaraderie of friends and church.
I don't want a billion friends and commitments. There is no way that I am ready for that. But I would like a friend to occasionally have lunch with. I'd like once a week to meet a girlfriend out for coffee or at the gym and just talk.
Making friends in a new town is hard.
I talk to my mama every day and that is very good. We stay close and our friendship deepens. I am so lucky.
I have a friend who is a neighbor. We do things and she is really fun, but I don't want to count on her for all my social interaction. She has a job and a family and full life. I have several nice neighbors in fact and I enjoy visiting with them on the occasion we cross paths on the street. I have a friend from college and we are making plans to reconnect. I'm not that pathetic.
This isn't really a complaint. I'm just...noting it. I am writing it down for posterity in the year of change.
Some of my hours are empty and sometimes I am homesick.
I am currently accepting applications for a casual friend in the Littleton area who likes quick lunches and occasional chats while exercising.