Well, spook left this morning for a week away at his folks' place. He's only been gone an hour or so, but somehow the apartment has a different kind of empty feeling when I know he won't be home tonight. The place is kind of a shambles after our weekend cut-and-paste-athon, and the kitties are staring at me. At moments like this, I have an overwhelming desire to run away, live in a tower room somewhere and support myself as a waitress, and then I remember--oh, wait. I've done all of those things, not necessarily all at the same time. They weren't so exciting.
Instead, I'm gonna go roll up my sleeves, turn up CBC radio one and listen to whatever they're discussing, and clean out the fridge. Housework is always available as consolation (Jen's "low probability of failure" activities).