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.



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