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| Chui' in that warm coziness in the truck |
The fourth different flying insect I've seen is crawling across the top-right quantrant of my screen as I type while a stupid, stupid moth smacks it's stupid little face into the light glowing above and in front of me. Here I am again, in the "great outdoors", technology, truck and dog along as always. North of Landers, CA I've been here for hours ahead of my friends that are still en route after a days work; a perk of self employment that I still manage to take for granted. Somehow.
The feeling began to come over me before I even boarded the plane last night, west bound from Atlanta after a week of tradeshow... show. What was home now feels like a house, demoted to a simple structure or place that feels broken. It's difficult to describe. I know what triggered the change, what pulled back the scab on the fact that living in a house designed for a family, as a bachelor is not a great feeling. Or maybe it's the recent renewed feeling of what it could be but isn't? Whatever it is, it sucks and I don't like being in my house right now. That's why I'm in the desert.
It's beautiful out here. A perfect 60 or so degrees with Mogwai on the radio, a fire burning away in preparation for dinner and sky full of stars. In a few moments a good friend is about to walk through a door to a poor choice of venue for a first date. The guy seems to make sense on paper and I'm excited for her, I hope it goes somewhere. I miss the feeling.
