Maybe I am tired. Maybe I’m old. Maybe I’m the worst kind of lonely, married and lonely. As I write this J is upstairs sleeping. She spent yesterday and today worrying about the water main break. As if her worrying would miraculously energize the work crew and replace the broken pipes. I believe she loves me, without question. Still catastrophizing sucks the energy out of a person quicker than an anemic vampire sucks blood from the jugular.
I am now watching a YouTube video on Russian Black Sea resorts, beautiful places, the beaches perhaps too rocky for American tastes, but lovely nonetheless. The people at these beaches having fun look like the crowd at the Outer Banks, except they are entirely European.
This is a world I want to share with J. I ask her to watch shows like this with me. She declines. Hallmark Christmas movies, The Bachelor, and Law And Order SVU, are more to her liking. These simple lovely videos offer so much, an escape to an innocence thought lost in this world of supercomputera, hydrogen bombs or love stories and true crime dramas.
I’ve written about this before, bored you all with it before. Perhaps I need to fix her lunch for tomorrow, go back to bed and get back to fiction.