On being alone

I hate being alone. This conflicts with my need for “downtime” and that my way is the best way. ;-) I’m listening to a This American Life recording called Home Alone, and I find it terrifying. What if I slip in the bath tub or have a heart attack in bed? For example, this woman dies completely alone: no family, no friends, no one knows her. A month after her death, they call her answering machine, and the outgoing message is completely antisocial… rather, ahem, like mine. People who want to be alone should be. But the program points out that what we all really want is control over whether or not we are alone. What I guess we aren’t always aware of is what we’re doing that creates a situation where we are going to be alone when that isn’t our choice. In the program, the woman died. We discover that being mourned is a privilege for people who choose to be close to other people.

Despite my fears, I have not been alone here in Paris. Well, I didn’t see anyone I knew on Sunday, but I had a lively time at the Plage on my own. That isn’t particularly different from some weekends in San Francisco.

Yesterday I spent the first part of the day riding bus rapid transit in southern suburbs for work. The RER returned me to the centre ville; so, I figured I should check out the shops before returning to the apartment. I’m looking for a purse.

I have always been a night owl. I realized the my body desperately wants to be awake at around 4-5 am here which is about 7 or 8 pm in San Francisco. I wonder if I should limit my location to time zones where that’s an appropriate hour to be awake.

No photos today as they were all of buses yesterday. I’ll do a separate post about that another day. I’m also going to leave my laptop at J&G’s and go have a vacation with my mother for a week. So, don’t expect me to keep up the blogs (except VV which is queued in advance).