Yesterday evening, as my computer was at the repair shop (Matt’s house) and there was nothing urgent that I needed to accomplish, I found myself in a peculiar place. Sitting in silence in my oddly clean room, I realized how much I missed being alone.

For the past many months, my life has been a constant jigsaw puzzle of events. There’s a guaranteed sense of anticipation that comes with crowding the GCalendar with dinners and birthday parties and date nights and family festivities. Despite the exhaustion, it’s surprisingly easy to live this way. I find comfort in knowing there’s always something to look forward to.

I haven’t had a good Internet-free ‘me’ session in a while (yeah, go ahead and disregard this post, would ya?). I had no idea how much I needed it.

Somehow, in the quietest of moments, my brain fills the empty space with my truest thoughts. As I was sitting on my bed, quadruple-coating my toenails, I suddenly needed to get up and write. I guess I had some sort of life-altering ephiphany. Standing on my heels, I shuffled my way over to my desk and rummaged through my stuff for some scrap paper. I ended up spewing my heart onto the back of a three-page Macy’s credit card application. I wrote fiercely, thinking that if I stop, I’d forget something. When I had scribbled the last word, I felt energized and exhausted, like I had just gotten back from a run.

I haven’t felt that sense of urgency to write in quite long time. I mean, writing is cool. It’s what I do for a living. But lately, it’s become a job, and that has always been my worst fear. It’s a liberating feeling to write something that’s just for me. To not have to worry about The Man or the AP Stylebook or the eight readers of this website (hi!). It reminds me why I fell in love with words in the first place.

Tonight, all I see on the paper is an unpoetic, barely-legible mess. Doesn’t matter. No one’s gonna read it but me, anyway.

I think I’m gonna make ‘me’ time a regular thing. As a matter of fact, I’m typing it into the GCal as we speak.