One thing I didn't expect about coming back was the feeling of loneliness that comes from being dropped into my isolated little desert island of a world, after a week of being around and with people I love. I should have expected it, I guess, but I must have forgotten that being on my own always takes on a starker and more severe nature after I've been spending time with people.
When my nephews were too young to stay on their own, I would sometimes move into their house for a few days to give Suzanne and John a chance to get away. I volunteered for this assignment every chance I got, but it always made my house seem so much emptier when I came home. I like living alone, I really do. But sometimes I don't.
While I was on vacation, I ate three times a day. They weren't always actual meals, but most of them were fairly substantial. At home I never eat that way. A bowl of cereal around eleven, a sandwich about two, and a simple evening meal. That's my usual fare, but I was getting that hollow feeling long before eleven today. I have to watch and be sure all the good I've done since I started dieting in January doesn't get undone by lapsing back into bad habits.
Friday night I watched game five of the NBA finals in my nephews' motel room with the whole family. Tonight I watched game six by myself, some of it while I was sitting at the computer trying to catch up on things. Not the same at all.