This painting is called The Hermit and was done by the Russian artist, Mikhail Nesterov.

It seemed suitable to my current situation of relative solitude. I’m curious where this old guy is headed with his walking stick and keys.  I assume he’s headed back from his morning walk to his apartment or hillside cave.  Yeti-like, isn’t he?

I’ve been home alone now for, oh, about 3 days.  It’s very strange.  Very quiet…

The past two days I’ve found it very difficult to leave my apartment.  This is partially due to laziness, partially due to the fact that I’m enjoying the comforts of home, and partially due to my own eccentric nature.

(Important note: my wife and kids are currently visiting family and friends back in Seattle.  They will come back!  No need for alarm…)

Since I haven’t been a bachelor or lived alone in over 6 years, I’m finding it a bit difficult thusfar to find any sort of routine to my day.  I’m NOT complaining about that at all…it’s just weird.  I wake up…when I wake up…(revolutionary concept), I eat…when my stomach won’t stop pestering me, I do some reading, I do some writing, I watch some movies, I look at the clock to see how much time has been consumed in these various activities.

The strangest part of it is that in a very irrational way I feel like I’m going to be tested on how I’m spending my time.  Like some examiner is going to pop out of the closet at some point and say, "OK, time’s up.  Have you prepared?"

"Prepared for what?!"

"Oh, you know…don’t act ignorant."

"No, really, I don’t."

"Well…for the test…of course…"

"Uh…well…um…should I have?"

"It’s a little too late to think about it now.  Take out your #2 pencil.  Here’s your scan tron.  Be sure to fill in the bubbles completely…"

Aaaaaaghhhh.

So I feel a little bit on edge.  Like a cat, I wander from room to room, decide I really want to be in a different room and then forget about why I left my original position to begin with.  The phone rings and I wonder, "Should I answer that?  Do I really want to?"  And so I decide I should (not necessarily out of a desire to) and so I do, and it’s a person speaking Chinese.  Wrong number, and I’m a little disappointed I made the effort.  My biggest fear is that other people will help me decide how I should spend my time this month.  "Oh, you should do this [whatever] and have you thought about coming over to do this [whatever] and how’s it going with that novel?

Novel!  Aaaaaghhh, more pressure.  Why did I tell anyone that I wanted to write a novel?!  That’s the number one deterrent to ever actually writing one.  Telling someone you are going to is like jinxing yourself.  So I stare at the blank Word document and wonder about J.D. Salinger.

He’s the epitome of recluse, isn’t he?  He writes his highly-acclaimed Catcher in the Rye and a few others short works and then he goes into hiding for the next half-century.  What does he write about in his lonely cave?  Does he EVEN write anymore?  Is he eating a lot of Mac N Cheese these days, too?

Ah, the great mysteries of life.  I guess I have a few more weeks to get used to this (or not get used to it!) and to wrestle with these "hermit" questions.  I already miss my girls a bunch, but I know they’re having fun and getting spoiled (I’m sure.)  I’m going to lighten up and make the most of this time though.  It’s not often that a man in my position can use the bathroom without even closing the door!  Let’s just hope by end of July I’m not muttering Shakespearean dialog to myself and lining the windows of my apartment with alien-proof aluminum foil. 

Let’s just hope…