Permanent Tourist

Jo is away in Scotland for over two weeks, and I find myself listless. There are lots of things to do, which I’d planned to fill the time while Jo’s not here: preparing photographs, tidying and cleaning, bringing some semblance of order to the piled mess which is my home office desk. Getting those endless piles of plastic and glass off to the recycling centre. Lazy hours in front of the television watching repeats of Clarkson, May and Hammond with toast aplenty. Feeling lucky when comparing my wonderful life with the complex miseries inflicted on the residents of Albert Square. Listening to a daily indie show on the radio when falling asleep at night, as Jo can’t doze off when the radio is on. Continuing to develop this website, developing new things which I can’t talk about – or I’d have to kill you. Going to the cinema to see the new Bond film… except that’ll have to wait for Jo to return, so that the experience can be warmed by a cuddle.

Somehow, all this is meaningless, as Jo isn’t here. All that I have to do and want to do while she is away – to keep myself busy and to free up time and pressure once she returns – seems pointless without her. There’s no-one else here to see the mess or to share toast with, so it’s not really worth looking forward to. Nothing is the same, when she’s not here.