The walking dorks walked their route the wrong way today. They went clockwise around the parking lot. I bet they're pod people now. That's exactly the kind of simple mistake that pod people would make. I'll have to keep an eye on them.

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It's not loneliness I feel. It's much more specific than that. It's always specific. One, or the other, or another. I'm alone most of the time, but I don't always feel alone. I'm okay, sometimes.

Crowds are the worst for me. For me, it's impossible to not feel alone in a crowd. I just want to slink into myself and hide from all the chaos around me. Or I find one and I focus.

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I just have to focus. That's how I manage things like the other night. Once I'd resigned myself to the fact that I couldn't grow eyes in the back of my head, I was able to stop being so damn nervous. Because it wasn't doing either of us any good. We ended up having good time, despite my initial misgivings about going there. A really good time.

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I don't know where this might lead. Maybe nowhere. Maybe somewhere. That's part of the excitement, I suppose. It's not boring, that's for sure.

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Picklepie runs up onto my deck most nights when I get home. I pour food in his bowl, but he doesn't want that. He's getting plenty of food somewhere. All he wants from me is to be petted and loved. So I do that. He's a good kitty. I miss him when he disappears.

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It's not that. Not all of the time. Most of the time, it's just an ache. I can live with it, since it seems that I have no choice.