Back from Madison, feeling as ambiguous as ever. Or rather, feeling unambiguously like I need out, but knowing that I will likely cave soon, and I will want to stay and this will happen again in another two weeks. I have no reason to think that it will stop. It has, in fact, been this way from the beginning. I want, and then I don't, and I do and then I don't. And I kept hoping that it would get better. That the ambivalence would resolve itself.
And in the meanwhile I am alone in a cold house and I don't know what to do with myself because I had thought I might be productive, I might go back to the radio essay about my mother because I have thoughts about it except I barely remember how to work it and the inspiration is gone and I tried to buy a book twice except it didn't work and now I'm trying to log on to Adobe, hoping that will solve the problem except that Adobe says my email address is already registered but when I ask for it to send me my password again, nothing happens.
I don't mind the cold, really. But it makes it sound more melodramatic.