I miss the sun.
I started working nights, which is convenient in a lot of ways: no traffic to work, penalty rates, cool moonlit motorbike rides home at five in the morning.
Now, it’s winter, so the sun’s only getting limited stage time and I I ain’t seeing even half of the whole show.
Wake up at two, coffee, exercise, shower, breakfast, laundry & tidy.
Now it’s four thirty in the afternoon and I stand on my balcony and watch the sun fall away on the horizon, I feel the heat recede with it, making me shiver and turn inside.
There is something, de-motivational about the night.
Something primal that urges me to retreat back to my space. Something lodged in the lizard part of my brain telling me: stay in your cave: it’s scary out there.
It’s not so bad, I don’t mind being alone in my cosy yellow light with a few books and my laptop, and my housemates get home in the afternoon and it’s nice, to talk to them.
But then, when their conversations grow animated, when drinks and meals are shared, when the real affection of of our little community comes out, I leave into the darkness to sling drinks.
The warmth, the light of the sun, and of this little clique, I miss.