All I feel like doing today is eating. I’ve made myself roasted root vegetables (carrot, parsnip, yam, and yukon gold potato) and a baigan bharta-like eggplant concoction. I’m not even hungry at the moment, and have dinner plans in about an hour. I don’t know what my problem is.
I’m feeling a little bit of social overload. I’ve been gone a lot this month, and I feel like I’ve been saying “sometime after the 12th” to everyone. Here it is, sometime after the 12th, and I don’t feel like doing anything. Sorry — it’s not you, it’s me. Oh, I guess I do feel like eating. Everything. In. Sight.
My roommate’s out of town at a conference this week. It makes me realize that I haven’t lived alone in about a year and a half, and that I kind of like living with someone. While solitary living has its perks (loud music, no modesty, making smoothies without guilt in the morning, etc.), I think I’m happier and healthier when I live with someone. Or lately I am. I am cleaner with Claire — this week I didn’t do any dishes at all, and I left my clothes on the bathroom floor and mail all over the apartment. And the constant eating thing — it’s like there’s no other distraction, so I make myself food and then eat it. Maybe it’s just a messy/hungry week for me. Who knows.
I know this isn’t a particularly fun blog post, but it’s what I have for today. For the last few days.