pleni sunt coeli et terra gloria eius

And now that I've been out in the world a little I can report that it's another of those strange gray Boston days that looks colder than it actually is and the realization that it's not all that chill and your scarf is superfluous is somehow depressing. I'm back from Kelly's and I'm exhausted by this loneliness. I'm so grateful for nights like last night because I get to check my luggage at the door and just do my job and worry about my aching feet and not spilling martinis in their goddamn impossible glasses. Seriously, try carrying three of them, just three on a tray to a table 30 feet away and tell me if you don't splosh some over the rims.
Maybe this is part of why I feel so at sea in Boston; I feel like I've made it so I have no safe havens, no places to exhale, no places to sit and be me but with company. I spend my days running around to appointments and jobs and when I'm there I'm always watching the clock until I can duck out and race home but to what? I spend my evenings in my room downloading music, working on my applications, and lately watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy in it's entirety (that includes special features and then again with director's commentary). I'm not even all that interested in LOTR and sure, I can see it for what it is - my relief to have somewhere to escape that's pure fantasy and has no connection to my life and how I'm feeling (though sometimes teaching at the BCC is remarkably similar to fighting an army of ax-wielding dwarves). I kept thinking if I packed my days with responsibilities and places to be and people who were expecting me there I'd feel fuller. I thought volunteering for MEDA and the restaurant and the BCC and the poetry class and working with Andy and the Chorale and all of these things in my day planner would make me feel less lonely, and while they're wonderful distractions, they only highlight the contrasts between when I'm busy and when I'm not, when I'm racing and being of service and when I'm still and suddenly hurting. I feel in extremes, I know that, I feel everything bigger and grander and deeper than...well, most I guess, or than I'm supposed to. I don't know. But sometimes it feels like to much, and I miss either being able to numb out somehow, or halve my trouble by sharing it with someone I love. It's kind of a bleak day right now, and I know this will all pass and I'll go to the BCC in an hour and feel valuable and useful and not so dark, but I wanted to write about this because I feel like this most days and try to avoid thinking about it by writing about other things. I'm grateful for the many things in my life that allow me a break from thinking about these feelings, I just wish I had some things in my world that would allow me a break from feeling them. Like a fellow benchwarmer sitting out the game, or a really excellent fantasy novel. I need a choir.