Home for Lunch

I came home for lunch today because my usual lunch companion, Carolyn, is off from now until the new year. So, the rest of the week I am on my own for lunch.

I don't mind. I like coming home. I don't like eating sandwiches all the time but it doesn't matter really. I guess if I wanted to cook I could. I just like being at home where I can sit in the quiet and not think about anything but how badly the carpet needs cleaning.

I used ice on my back again last night and I also put it on my shoulder. I think it may have helped that a bit too. But boy my knees are really not good today.

There is a restlessness in me I can't define. I have a lot of things running through my head that I want to do but I can't seem to find the motivation to actually do them. I remember getting this way a long time ago and I'd start a project that kept me occupied for days. But everything seems to be something I shared with Jerry. It isn't the same not having him to talk to about what I'm doing.

It is crazy because I don't actually ever remember talking to him about my sewing, or writing, or crochet. I must have done because now it feels as if I am supposed to and can't. Or maybe it is because those things I could do with him sitting in the room with me and feel his presence even though we never said a word. I just don't know.

I'm going to pull out my crochet again. I have a couple of pieces I never finished that I could finish now. I could get a movie out and let it run while I work on it. Maybe the big thing is that I'm not organized. I let too many other distractions interfere. I do that with my writing, too.

No answers. Just speculation.