Lately, Prime and I have been working different shifts; he’s been getting overtime at work and I either work mid-shifts or closings. So we’ve been spending a lot of time apart, basically acting like two ships passing each other. Because of this, I’ve been alone a lot and spending much more time at the house. Normally, I don’t mind it; the idea of being alone and drinking in the silence appeals to me.
It doesn’t anymore. The silence is too much, too heavy, stifling, suffocating. I have to hear something, some background noise lest I pace the house like a caged animal.
I’ve been sticking to podcasts mostly. Last year, Prime and I cut the cable so having the television on is out of the question. Sure, we could get a converter box but network channels don’t appeal to me. Some of the podcasts I listen to are skeptical, others are sarcastic and all are entertaining. They all have one major thing in common: they have human voices. I need to hear a human voice. If I don’t, I feel far too alone.
Now I understand why my great-grandmother kept the television running until she went to bed.
My appointment is on the 12th. I’ll get more details then. I’ll probably be scheduled for surgery sometime in the future. I know it’s not major. I know I don’t actually have cancer. I know I’ll be fine. Yet I’m terrified and I can barely drown the fear out.
So I switch on the speaker to the computer and turn up the volume as I load up Cognitive Dissonance or Scathing Atheist. For a few moments, I forget my fear and go on with my life as though nothing is wrong.
Iacon East 