The end of Vancouver summer is today.
Somehow there should be more angst to it. Instead there’s only empty waiting for the rain. My day is on hiatus, waiting for a few things today. Another GlobalFreeloader is coming to stay the weekend, she calls today. Robin is due on the phone as well. Socializing the autistic boy with I don’t know what today. He’s started talking about girls. I’m on-line with my painter, he’s talking about his time spent with Karen Findly and her stories of being married to Buckowski. It’s quietly fascinating, full of older men who drink too much, but not quite enough to make up for being trapped in a box for hours at a time with this pale lightless light flooding in. Not enough people on-line this morning, not enough people answering mail. Naked wrapped in a blanket, I feel like an internet orphan. I want so very badly something to do, someone to talk to. For something to do while trapped, I’ve been grumbling at the webcam again. No luck. Could always hook it back up to the roomate computer, though the cable doesn’t reach very far. My rooms terribly messy at any rate. Silks, x-rays, a shifting pile of papers and books. Nothing for anyone to see.