busy

i read a great line in my book yesterday that said "sleeping people have vulnerable souls and should be woken gently". i thought that was lovely, and definitely feel it's true for me. it got me thinking about how each morning i pester brendan when he's sleeping. i like to cuddle close to him after my alarm goes off, and it drives him bonkers, he doesn't like it when i breathe on his neck. so i decided to be more considerate, and to treat him as i'd want to be treated. so this morning the alarm went off, and i got up right away. i was actually on time for work and not in a rush because i was not busying myself in an unproductive manner. so it turned out to be mutually beneficial.

it's interesting how time and circumstances change friendships. how people grow apart. it's not that people grow less significant, that they become less of a good friend, or that they become less interesting. i think it comes down to intimacy. the level of intimacy changes as time and distance come between. odd how sometimes the more time that passes makes for less things to talk about. i began to write an email to a friend i haven't communicated with in months, and found i had nothing interesting to say. just regular run of the mill things that i'd share with any old acquaintence. i think i need the level of intimacy in that friendship to be restored once again before i find more noteworthy things to say. it's hard to say if this is a new normal or just a friendship fading away. i feel both at peace and saddened by that.

i remember the old library i'd go to with my dad when i was little. it was small and was torn down in the late 90s. it had this room full of angular chairs and newspapers hanging on racks like laundry. my dad would sit for what felt like hours reading those newspapers. i'd be bored out of my skull, so i'd climb over the furniture, and walk down the aisles taking in the scent of old books and dusty carpet. i always felt like a stranger in that place, the librarians would talk to other patrons like neighbours or old friends. i felt like a misfit, like an intruder. perhaps that's why i prefer bookstores.

you are a miracle, but that's not all
you are also a stiff drink and i am on call
you are a party and i am a school night
and i'm looking for my door key
but you are my porch light.