So for the past week I've been sleeping in a friend's guestroom while they were out of town. "Housesitting" is the official term, however really I've been hiding from the cold...
It's amazing how quickly one adjusts. I'm feeling a lot of the apprehensions I was feeling initially (all over again, after just a week reprieve), and again am worrying about Quinn adjusting. I'm writing this post at the community centre at midnight as my cellphone charges, then I'll get out and park and get some sleep.
It's so incredible, the traps of consumerism. I hate it, and yet I'm still reluctant/scared/nervous about relinquishing it's grips on me. All the crap I've accumulated that serves no purpose. All the shitty 12 dollar rings, makeup, unnecessary toiletries. It's all so MUCH. There's just so much to DO that really just seem hellbent on distracting us from sunsets and parks and each other and moving our bodies. I actually kept my bikini waxing kit... really?!
It's all so freaking non-nonsensical, and yet I'm scared of giving it all up. Not fitting in, choosing not to play the part...
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