Being Single, and Living Alone, among other things…
Now I know why people get addicted to their TVs.
For the past couple of days, and all the rest of this week, I’m living alone. Well, as alone as you can get with four dogs and two cats, but that’s beside the point.
My goal for this week is to finish Nightshade, my current work-in-progress. And I’m making good progress. But without anyone else around and no internet connection to occupy my time, and since it’s not my house (meaning, no household chores to speak of, other than the usual) I’m finding it very hard to fill up my evenings without turning on the television. And it doesn’t help that she has cable.
Sunday night I didn’t turn on the TV. Monday night I stayed up far too late to watch Timecop, which was a good movie, really. I’m a fan of time-travel movies anyway, and I thought this one was well done enough to be entertaining. I might even rent it to watch again. Last night it was the Discovery Health channel, on and off. And I’m contemplating whether or not to watch Spartacus this weekend. (It depends. It says it starts Sunday night. If it’s a series, I won’t watch it since she’s coming home Tuesday evening, and Monday evening will be my last night there.)
But seriously, I’m starting to realize why people get addicted, especially if they live alone. (I should probably add that I’m also about halfway done with Castaways on the Flying Dutchman by Brian Jacques, one of the books I picked up at B&N last Monday, as well. It’s… okay. Not as good as Redwall, though.)
I think part of the problem is that my coworker has no clocks in her house. No pendulum clocks, that is. The silence is deafening at times, broken only by a few normal house sounds and the cats jumping down from the cabinets. It’s a new house, too, and fairly airtight, which could be part of the problem. (For me, at least.)
I am not used to such silence. I’m used to hearing branches scratch against the windows during a hard and windy rain. I’m used to hearing the cats meow, dogs bark, and whatever howl outside. I’m used to the constant ticking of many clocks, and the hourly chorus of tweets, growls, and chimes. I’m used to hearing the Shrek soundtrack practically every night. I’m used to hearing the phone ring, even if it’s never for me.
I’m even getting used to hearing Hildy’s wheel. I’m definitely used to hearing her chomp on her food every night. I’m used to the raccoons outside my window. I’m used to the windows rattling in their frames at every gust of wind. And I’m used to hearing Zoey coughing up hairballs. And Ethan crying. And people walking up and down the stairs at all hours of the night.
I had this problem when I moved to Columbus. There’s always a noise at our house, but when I moved, I heard only snores. (I sleep with a pillow over my head or cotton balls in my ears to deaden the sounds, not eliminate them. I can’t sleep in complete silence. My mind creates noises to occupy my imagination.)
I wouldn’t last in a newly built house with insulated windows. Especially one without any clocks. The silence is more cloying than golden, in truth, and that’s why I’ve turned on the TV these past two nights. (A radio would be nice, but there doesn’t seem to be one, and I don’t really listen to the radio. I listen to the world.)
Tonight I’m not going to watch TV. I’m going to go home and eat supper with my family, and then go back to my coworker’s house and work on Nightshade.
And maybe eventually I’ll buy my coworker a clock.
Now I know why people get addicted to their TVs.
For the past couple of days, and all the rest of this week, I’m living alone. Well, as alone as you can get with four dogs and two cats, but that’s beside the point.
My goal for this week is to finish Nightshade, my current work-in-progress. And I’m making good progress. But without anyone else around and no internet connection to occupy my time, and since it’s not my house (meaning, no household chores to speak of, other than the usual) I’m finding it very hard to fill up my evenings without turning on the television. And it doesn’t help that she has cable.
Sunday night I didn’t turn on the TV. Monday night I stayed up far too late to watch Timecop, which was a good movie, really. I’m a fan of time-travel movies anyway, and I thought this one was well done enough to be entertaining. I might even rent it to watch again. Last night it was the Discovery Health channel, on and off. And I’m contemplating whether or not to watch Spartacus this weekend. (It depends. It says it starts Sunday night. If it’s a series, I won’t watch it since she’s coming home Tuesday evening, and Monday evening will be my last night there.)
But seriously, I’m starting to realize why people get addicted, especially if they live alone. (I should probably add that I’m also about halfway done with Castaways on the Flying Dutchman by Brian Jacques, one of the books I picked up at B&N last Monday, as well. It’s… okay. Not as good as Redwall, though.)
I think part of the problem is that my coworker has no clocks in her house. No pendulum clocks, that is. The silence is deafening at times, broken only by a few normal house sounds and the cats jumping down from the cabinets. It’s a new house, too, and fairly airtight, which could be part of the problem. (For me, at least.)
I am not used to such silence. I’m used to hearing branches scratch against the windows during a hard and windy rain. I’m used to hearing the cats meow, dogs bark, and whatever howl outside. I’m used to the constant ticking of many clocks, and the hourly chorus of tweets, growls, and chimes. I’m used to hearing the Shrek soundtrack practically every night. I’m used to hearing the phone ring, even if it’s never for me.
I’m even getting used to hearing Hildy’s wheel. I’m definitely used to hearing her chomp on her food every night. I’m used to the raccoons outside my window. I’m used to the windows rattling in their frames at every gust of wind. And I’m used to hearing Zoey coughing up hairballs. And Ethan crying. And people walking up and down the stairs at all hours of the night.
I had this problem when I moved to Columbus. There’s always a noise at our house, but when I moved, I heard only snores. (I sleep with a pillow over my head or cotton balls in my ears to deaden the sounds, not eliminate them. I can’t sleep in complete silence. My mind creates noises to occupy my imagination.)
I wouldn’t last in a newly built house with insulated windows. Especially one without any clocks. The silence is more cloying than golden, in truth, and that’s why I’ve turned on the TV these past two nights. (A radio would be nice, but there doesn’t seem to be one, and I don’t really listen to the radio. I listen to the world.)
Tonight I’m not going to watch TV. I’m going to go home and eat supper with my family, and then go back to my coworker’s house and work on Nightshade.
And maybe eventually I’ll buy my coworker a clock.
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