Much seclusion, introspection, and little posting. I do seem to be growing interested in the world outside my doors again--gradually. I've become obsessive about being at work from 8:00 until 5:00, and, although I dread going home to an empty place, I am slowly growing more used to it (granted, I've morphed into the stereotypical figure who, immediately upon coming home, thrusts a frozen single-serving TV dinner into the microwave before she takes off her coat). However, after many months of spending Friday evening until Monday morning in my pajamas (usually my lovely husband's pajamas), I've begun to venture forth on the weekends: to the mall, to take a long walk. I'm still at that stage where people are uncertain about ringing you--their fears of being intrusive, or their fears that widowhood is contagious--but I did receive my first invitation today (for a weekly get together with colleagues) after months of isolation, which was, of course, mostly self-imposed.
The bad days still arrive--and the hysteria and tears and shaking fists will continue, I'm sure--but a few good ones arrive as well. Today, it feels good.
Now: how 'bout that State of the Union?