(no subject)

It is weird to get up in the morning and go to work. It is weird to spend 8 hours at work, to not get to nap in the afternoon if it's too hot or I had too little sleep. It is weird not to go every afternoon to a coffee shop. It is weird to not be writing a story, or thinking about a story, or talking about a story. It is weird to be with people who talk about things other than the last story they wrote, or the last story they read, or the last crit they had. I passed up an opportunity to go to my very favorite restaurant last week because I didn't think I could manage to eat all by myself in a restaurant when I am so used to going in groups so large we have to ask for seperate checks. I went to a coffee shop this afternoon and just sat and read--no laptop, not even a pen and paper. It's weird being home.