A note from my personal journal:

After sifting through my notes over the weekend, I realized two things while she was gone.

I wrote a lot. Why? I think part of the reason is because I’m a little lonely for her and the trip took me out of my element, which is good. No complaints there. But spending all that time away in another place with the boy, for which I’m grateful, meant I wanted some time alone. Down time? Maybe, but the label seems unnecessary. I ended up using most of my free time, not that we had much, writing internally and reflecting. That’s good. I’d rather do that than ingest some bullshit articles.

Besides the writing quantity, I realized ultimately I spend our time apart waiting for her to return. Not literally, but I work through the open space with unusual discipline and that gives away a reason exists. I can only assume subconsciously I understand the void her absence creates.

The things I choose to do are not make-work type things, I’m not simply creating some shit to do. Maybe I’d do these things if she was here. No, I would. Like coding and such. I mean please, I do that a lot. But it would take longer because I would not focus so much on that activity and would spend time with her.

So when she’s gone I end up with basically the same routine, compressed because I don’t stop to live with her. In a sense this is filling time, sure. But in the back of my mind, I’m waiting for her to be here.

That sentiment, too, is a giveaway telling me I don’t really want to spend my time working on these things. Well duh. So why do I?

When she’s not here I’m nearly compulsive about writing and coding or whatever creative thing is presently on my mind. Whatever it is, I should probably pause more to consider the value and work through the thing driving me to address it, sort of a secondary check to be sure I’m not just acting manically. I mean I say that low-key, I don’t think I’m insane or anything.