After being on the road the last week or so, I spent today in near-complete seclusion. Still drunk on anti-anxiety meds and weary from my flight into the polar vortex last night, I opened up my laptop about 6 a.m. and wrote in the quiet of my kitchen. Here and there I did some reading and sipped some coffee. I didn’t take a bath until 4. Oddly, the last few days are representative of how I feel on the inside. Some days I’m good with being Mr. Personality. But those take a toll on me, and then I’d rather retreat to someplace serene while the world goes on with itself (without me.) I’ve been that way since I was a little guy. I need some space … to need some space. And maybe a few minutes to put words together.
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