Around August first, I stopped taking my damned iPhone into the bedroom, reading it to fall asleep and first thing when I woke up. Instead I started reading books, as I’ve probably mentioned. Fall asleep reading books, wake up reading books. When people came to stay while Bryan was in Indonesia, I developed some new waking habits. I wake up and go sit in a comfy chair in the living room to read, instead of staying in bed to read. It’s quiet. I watch it get lighter. I read and drink coffee, two cups. Reading books makes me feel normal and human, which the rest of my day does not. I feel as if I’m in a play for most of the day, negotiating and playing the role of mediator, smoother-over, problem-solver, cheer-leader, saint.
At night, I watch a couple of episodes of House Hunters: International, and fantasize about buying some run-down house in France and turning it into a gite, where I could stay home, walk around in my garden, read, hang the laundry like I did before. Everything I do now, is an attempt to get back there. I’m obsessed.
Then I go to bed and read, and try to sleep until 6:00.