I haven’t been writing. Not really. I guess people used to journal and then we bloged and then people stopped reading the blogs so I feel safe writing this to myself here.

Tonight I feel it. The empty home. My daughters are not there. Usually this feeling catches up to me on Thursdays, Wednesdays maybe.

I am usually exhausted when friday morning comes and it is time to say goodbye. I usually welcome the weekend off and look to fill it with sports and art and writing but the truth is I have fewer and lesser need for these and am increasingly just holding the fort and keep busy until the girls come back.

This week I felt it right away.

It is hard to find reasons to go to sleep in an empty home. I have long since learned that the simple joys of family life are fare more necessary to my happiness that the “free” time of a “single’s” existence.

I went up and down Saint-Laurent boulevard and laughed at myself as I laughed at it all, the clothes, the stores, the bars, the restaurants and cafés… I knew in my heart I would rather be in a sandbox with the kids.

There is no conclusion here. There is no purpose to this except than to make myself believe I did something while they were away.

The climbing is fun and good and gives an hour of much needed relief from the stresses of life.

But when it isin’t met with the warm embrace of a loved one back at home…it feels exactly like what it really is.

Killing time till the family’s back together.

It’s midnight now. I am not even tired.

I don’t know.