Feathers in My Hair

I'm entirely uncertain why I am awake, and have been, since 5:30am on a rainy, dreary, grey Saturday morning.  The Norah Jones station on Pandora is keeping me company, as is little F-cat, who insists on sitting on my lap and cutting off circulation to my legs and feet.  

The only reasons I can think of for my inane early awakening are 1) the deep gnawing in the pit of my stomach, also known as hunger; 2) the never-ending sniffing and sneezing of my allergies; and 3) the non-stop activity in my cerebrum that likes to keep me awake for various lengths of time at all odd hours.  What could I possibly be thinking about at 6am?  I don't know...

It's the realization that things just aren't the same as they used to be.  I don't know if it's worse or better.  I tend to think better.  Unemployment has this way of deftly weeding out people who aren't real, true friends.  And so, when you get the occasional chance to go out with friends on a random Friday night, it's a more meaningful interaction.  You remember that you have a sense of humour that other people laugh at and possibly even appreciate.  Now that's refreshing.  

It's the realization that there is a time and a season, a place and a reason for everything in life.  And maybe it's time to move on.  Whether it's because I've outgrown them, they've outgrown me, we've grown in different directions, or simply we're just uncomfortable with each other for whatever reason (I'm certain unemployment has its part in it), there are friends that just simply aren't mine any more.  It's sad to see they have moved on, in their direction, without me.  Or that I have just moved on without them, which causes me no amount of grief and guilt that I perhaps pushed them away.  On one hand, it's lovely to see people that I've introduced to each other bonding and engaging in a rewarding friendship.  On the other, it hurts that I'm no longer part of my larger groups and circles in which I once moved.

I realize that my deep, intrinsic need to connect with others, meaningfully, on a more or less constant basis is never fully met.  And so, this causes me to lay awake at night.  Apparently.  Listening to music...someone else's voice.  Not my own, not the thoughts running endlessly through my mind.