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It's after Midnight and I really should be asleep, but I'm afraid to turn out my lights. Darkness is not my friend this evening. Not at all.
It's been an okay night, actually. I love my old roommate. We have such a good time together, no matter what we're doing. Tonight, we went to Chili's for dinner (I love their honey lime salad dressing. Can't find it in a grocery store. One of my big disappointments in life), then to Barnes & Noble, where I bought two new books, The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kinsolver and a collection of essays by E. B. White, as well as a Robert Jordan/Wheel of Time calendar (75% off--it cost me less than 3 dollars!). I've wanted to read Posionwood for a long time, but the hardcover version was too big, too heavy, too expensive. I found the essay collection in Devember, but the pre-Chrstmas lines were too much for me to face, so I hid it in another part of the store so no one else would buy it.
Steve and I talked about all sorts of things over dinner and while we were driving around. He's been my sounding board for such a long time. I miss him now that he's moved to the suburbs and is a married man. He promised me we'd always have time for nights like tonight, though. I even half believe him.
I called my mom when I got home. She sounded sad and small on the phone. I asked how her day was. She said, "..." I improvised. "Hard?" She agreed. "Hard describes it well."
She had planned to stay up there tonight if Nana was being discharged tomorrow, so I asked if her being back at home meant she was staying. Mom paused again. "She's not coming home at all this weekend." There was a little too much of a pause between 'all" and "this" for my liking.
I wonder if they'll ever send her back to her house, or if she'll end up moving from one part of the hospital to another, like my grandfather did. In my worst-case-scenario brain, she's never coming home.
Sunday is her birthday. We're going up to see her. I don't yet know how I feel about that.
I have Dido running on a continuous loop in my head. So far, I'm not annoyed by that yet. It could still happen.
I very selfishly wish the Boyfriend wasn't in Florida tonight. I'd sleep much better with him here beside me. Instead, I have his T-shirt under my pillow. Like a puppy, I gravitate toward the smell of home.
Wow. I didn't realize before right now that he'd become "home".
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