Happy Lunch, Taylor.

It’s really nice outside, but cold. And the wind is blowing so it’s uncomfortable. So lunch will need to be inside. I’m almost out of the lunch I made for myself a few days ago, so I’m wondering what else I should make for next week.

Things here at home have been rough. We agreed that I would have two days out of the week for myself, but then all this week she had important things to do. She at least gave me the hours after her stuff to come out, but it was only about two hours each time, so I didn’t clean up or anything. We’re running out of bowls and dishes because I haven’t done anything. She says she’s going to give me all day tomorrow, but I have a feeling I’m going to be cleaning all day. Hopefully we’ll be able to take care of more things next week.

We had a nice long talk last night, and I’m glad we did. Since we got this new job our hours don’t line up. And the letters feel like the only way I can talk to you sometimes. But when there’s nothing to write about, there’s not much to say. Letters always feel so much bigger than small talk. And I like talking to you. You’re kind of all I have.

I’ve tried reaching out to two people and they never got back to me. I’m beginning to feel like I’m going to be alone outside of The Other Place. But we’ll keep trying for now. I’m going to go into town this weekend and try to become a regular somewhere. Maybe someone will notice me and talk. But I imagine this is going to be a somewhat lonely life. But I have you, and Ragdoll, and some of the others at least in The Other Place.

The pile of dishes is taunting me. I have a little time in my lunch so maybe I should do them. But I don’t feel like I should until I get my full time back. I wish she wasn’t so busy.

I think I’ll see if Monday it’s bright enough for breakfast on the deck again. I miss my breakfasts.

I’m looking over at Ragdoll in her ragdoll. She’s napping for my lunch. I wonder about her in there. She’s quiet a lot in there now. Sometimes she still sings to herself or giggles. I haven’t her her cry in a long time. But mostly she’s just asleep. She doesn’t try to get up anymore. Sometimes her eyes are open and she looks at me. I wonder what she’s thinking. I wonder if she can think.

I’ve noticed The Oracle guarding the door every so often the last few days. She says doesn’t think there’s a problem, but she wants to make sure, so she’s standing guard. Ever since Didi told me to make the window into a door she’s been there on and off. More lately. She says nothing is wrong though, and I know her well enough to know she’s not hiding anything from me. I don’t think she likes open doors, especially one as important as this.

I only have five more minutes before I need to go and there’s not much going on. Maybe Saturday morning. We’ll see what happens then.

–Andrea