Coming home was wonderful. The bed so soft and warm, the kitty under my chin, the steam emanating from the radiators. I had much to do...unpacking, washing clothes, wrapping all the gifts I brought home, getting re-acquainted with the routine of the morning swim, and catching up on all the news I missed.
Now I am bored as shit.
I have tried to work in the basement studio...it's so difficult, coming from the grand space I occupied in the old mill. I am missing the boys across the hall, Manette on the 4th floor, and my daily calls to Len to bang the furnace to get the heat up to the 2nd floor. Most of all I miss the bright sunshine screaming through the windows. I am just plain missing everything. I am dying to get the new book exchange going, but can't seem to get myself into the basement to work on anything. It's a cold, dark space, and all I can hear is my mom's television above me.
Not exactly conducive to the creative mind.
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