Sometimes I hate this time of day. The early morning hours of quiet isolation. This morning I stood at my back door having my morning cigarette (I know, I know I swear I'm quitting again) and my first cup of coffee. I stood there looking out over the houses trying to hear the waves of the ocean in the background, but I heard nothing. It's the time of day that is just quiet. The baby next door hasn't starting crying yet, the workman at the construction site down the street haven't begun working and my husband is still fast asleep upstairs. The quiet should be peaceful, but for me it's not. It just leaves me alone with my thoughts and makes me feel restless and lonely.
I've recently found out that someone from my past that's important to me reads this blog. They read it without letting me know they are there. Any other time this may be nice to find out, but right now it's not because right now it means they know what the past few months have been like for me and yet, they said nothing. Not one word. Not I'm sorry for what you've had to go through, no words of encouragement or support or even 'I'm still here'. Sometimes it's all you need to hear 'I'm still here...' But they didn't say a word and I don't know what to think about that.
Sometimes I wish I was different and that things didn't effect me. I wish I was the sort of person that just let things roll of my back without giving it a second thought. I wish I could be less sensitive and less emotional. It's my biggest downfall - it's the one thing I wish I could change about myself. I wish I could be more carefree and a bit more callous. That way, this time of morning would feel more peaceful instead of feeling so discontented.
I'm so glad it's Friday. I look so forward to the time my husband and I have on the weekends. Tonight we'll go out for dinner and drinks and as far as the rest of the weekend - I don't care what we do. I just like spending time with him because when it's just him and I, nothing else really matters all that much.
My in-laws just left after a five day visit. I don't mind it being a five day visit, but then again, five days of your house not being your own is always a bit unsettling and although I don't look forward to their departure when they are here, I can't say I'm sad to have things go back to normal. As a treat for my son's birthday, we took him to the Museum of Natural History in London on Thursday. He chose to go because we took him last year (he's been crazy about dinosaurs since he was three years old). They give out adventure packs at the museum which consist of a back pack, safari hat, and binoculars with an adventure to follow during their visit. The back pack has clues in it to solve a mystery. Last year it had a dinosaur claw, a tooth and a sample of dinosaur skin he had to match up to one on display. He had a great time solving the mystery and even remembered which dinosaur it ended up being. Last year's trip was wonderful. We walked right in,
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