You never really realize how much time you spend with people until you
have to be alone for a while. Me? It’s been less than a week. Five days, to be
exact. In that time I have exhausted an unmentionable amount of airtime calling
my mother just so I could hear a friendly voice. I have gone through a shameful
number of wine bottles. I have done a number of things that any psychologist
would win a prize for analyzing.
We all get the point. And if we don’t, what I’m saying is that being alone in a house could drive a cartoon
to venture into a puppet show. You laugh, but I am dead serious. I eat to
keep busy. Do you know how bad that is? Eating non-stop. Stuffing your face
with delicious food. Watching heaps of sugar melting onto warm, freshly baked
goods…No. Wait. I am making this sound desirable. It is not. It is not desirable and it is not a substitute for human contact –that was my point. My waistline is expanding at a rate that may inspire me to move to America just so that I feel normal (yes, Americans are fat…that is exactly what I’m saying).
The fridge is my only friend at the moment. It opens its doors to me. It
listens to my tangents. It gives me unhealthy advice when I need it to.
Granted, the advice is in the form of Ultra Mel custard, but who cares? The
apples stare at me in judgment and disgust, but again…who cares?
It is a problem, people. Some of you may be wondering why I do not just
go home for vacation like my peers have. To that, I say don’t ask difficult
questions. I also say that that, my friends, is a story for a different day. I
have done bad things; stupid things that have to be remedied before I can walk
through the familiar doors of home. So until that happens, I am stuck in a studentless student town. Oh the depression, the agony, the loneliness, and yes, the drama of it all. At least I have my scrambled eggs, bacon and cheese to wake up to in the morning. When those leave me…I fear for the worst. Keep me in your thoughts.
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