I forget what the Q stands for, but it means a call night--which means that Justin is working a 30 hour shift and I am home alone tonight. That's right, got the whole bed to myself.
So, I'm sitting here blogging anyway.
facebook is a marvelous invention. I have reconnected with friends from high school and college. High school friends.... these are people some of whom I have not seen since 1991 or 92--a number of years I do not care to calculate just now.
Especially with Justin on call it makes me feel like I didn't come home to an empty house. I mean, I know I am alone, but I feel like I have some contact with the world. Like someone knows I am in it and functioning. Justin called and left a message--he says it's a hectic night in the ICU. He's what they call a black cloud--whenever he's on call something happens, in manner of patient-care-needs-increasing. To be opaque about it, you know, due to HIPA and all.
I miss Justin. But I think Q4 is better than when he has four days in a row of 4 p.m. to midnight shifts, or midnight to 8 a.m. shifts. This way at least I get to see him the day before he's on call and the day after he returns from call... it's funny math. But I didn't do well this last time when he was sleeping all day and I was sleeping at night and then during the day too. The house was too dark all week. It aided and abetted my depression, and that monster certainly doesn't need any help.
Coming home to facebook is not really like coming home to a husband or a roommate. Not even a little bit. But it is better than coming home to an answering machine, like in the 1990s. Remember that? When you'd hope for a blinking light and push play and hope for a friendly voice rather than a telemarketer? Now at least there is potential for immediate interaction (ie. the facebook chat I am carrying on with an old friend as I type this blog entry), or at least immediate response on my part (ie. the gmail I was able to send in the middle of the night), instead of having to wait until the next day and a decent hour to return a phone call. It's the implication of human contact that feeds me.
Is that too lonely of a thought?
I always said people need to learn to be alone without being lonely. I think I can do that. But I think given the quantity of time I spend alone, I am bound to be lonely sometimes.
I wonder if it would be different if we had kids. I mean, HOW it would be different if we had kids. I wonder what it will be like when I do not have to work as a waitress anymore. I'll have to do something. The idea that it could be something of my own invention startles me. What if my goal were not a dollar amount to help pay the bills, but instead were a feeling of fulfillment or purpose?
What would the world look like and feel like if we did have kids?