16.01.06
vacuum
I'm not really into planning my future in depth. A and I have had conversations about families and kids but we've never planned how and when and how many kids we'll have. (Note the fact that although I'm denying having planned a family it is in fact settled that A and I will have one.) But I do want my daughter (not only am I having a family which I'm not planning, but I'm also planning to have a daughter) to be named Sophia. It's such a beautiful, soft, delicate name. And sophos is Greek for wisdom and I think that's a beautiful thing to name a child after.
My house is empty of people and furniture and I'm laying in bed watching Lost in Translation (one for the film geeks- pick the link to the previous paragraph) on my laptop and reading about self harm and rare forms of lung cancer. I'm worrying about money after the move and planning to live on sandwiches, salad and noodles for the next few days to save money. I'm listening to the rain sloshing in the streets and imagining what it will sound like on the iron roof of our little terrace. I'm missing the imaginary kitten that I don't have yet and am puzzled every time I wander out to the kitchen and open my (near) empty fridge. This is the vacuum of time between events and everything seems hollow and empty. These two weeks between getting the place and moving in are just spaces to be filled with as many small details as possible. Changing addresses, going out to dinner, doing washing, packing boxes, cleaning the bathroom, making lists, shopping... When the odd jobs and duties stop things seem empty again and I'm left to wait again and no amounts of Pride and Prejudice or Lost in Translation can fill that void.
10:36 p.m.