On My Own

Joseph has been away on a business trip for the past few days, leaving me on my own. Throughout our relationship he has been away for weeks and even months @ a time and I've always been mostly okay. Sure, I sleep with the cordless phone and leave a light on in the kitchen and probably don't eat as well as I should...but mostly okay. This time, however, I kinda lost the plot. I stayed up way, way too late each night, which resulted in me sleeping way, way too late each morning, I ate a half of a pound of fudge and I worked myself up so badly last night that sleep became something of an impossibility. It's funny because I would like to think as one ages that one becomes better able to deal with simple things like sleeping alone. Apparently not. While I can't defend the whole "eating half a pound of fudge" thing - well, aside from saying that fudge is super delicious - I do have some explanations for some of the things that went down.

The first night Joseph was gone I was doing well. I had treated myself to a little something-something from the infamous Food Building @ the CNE after my ambassadoring gig and headed home to watch game two of the Blue Jays doubleheader. To my surprise, Joseph had been loaned a laptop and had free internets @ his hotel so we were able to chat. Afterwards, I was prepared for sleep [as I had an interview the next day] when I stumbled across a film just starting...at 1am. The film was My Summer Of Love - a quite liberal adaptation of a novel that was written by one of Joseph's cousins [her name is Helen Cross]. It's a book that I have read numerous times, but had not seen the film. In short, I decided to watch the film. Luckily it was short and finished just before 3am, all adverts included. The film was very good, although so, so different from the novel. This always makes me wonder - why bother to use the original source @ all when the story is so different. The characters were pretty bang-on and the story was vaguely similar, but ultimately a very different tale was told. While I wasn't a superfan of the book, the film made me appreciate the atmosphere and the storytelling. Both mediums were pretty darn original, so kudos [but no kudos to Bravo who apparently hates me sleeping] and both are highly recommended.

Then, last night I was feeling super drained and was really ready for bed quite early. I stayed up for Letterman because I wanted to see Jason Bateman [and found out that big DL is a big fan of Beavis & Butthead - just like me]. Then, I got ready for bed. I admit, I was feeling anxious [I always joke about being bludgeoned while Joseph is away, but I mostly don't believe it]...but went to bed and turned on CNN to keep me company [the way I see it - Anderson Cooper will protect me from all life's evils]. I fell asleep, but was woken up by the phone ringing @ around 2:30am. I picked up, but no one was on the other end. I *69-ed to no avail. The phone would ring again with similar results at least two more times. I was sincerely freaked out by this point, although it didn't seem rational. At like 4am with no sleep I'm hardly the model of rationality. I kept dozing off, got woken up a few times by the neighbours and ultimately decided that by 7:15am it was probably safe to turn out the lights, turn off the TV and sleep. Bleh. So yeah, I'm pretty psyched to be returning to my comfortable codependence later this evening.