Moon People

You know that personality quiz: All things being safe, free, death-free, etc., would you pick 10 minutes on the moon or two months in Europe? I’m one of those crazy moon people who can’t imagine anyone would pick Europe (because, duh, you CAN go to Europe, but just imagine…). Anyway, Moon people don’t “get” Europe people. I could spend half the day just contemplating infinity and seeing faces in tree trunks and looking for twigs that look like broken fairy wings… well, you get the picture. Insanity in a relatively benign form.

But, I have to go to work, so I can’t just hybernate in the back of a cathedral or live in a Hobbit hutch. Today, a coworker asked me what I do for lunch. “You never come with us. Where do you go?” I’m a loner. A gregarious introvert who is incredibly uncomfortable with small talk. I don’t know how to ask about the weekend or the kids. I want to ask what you seem to be grieving or if you think you are reincarnated. And because I have trouble finding other Moon people, I spend my lunch hour alone. So, nice coworker, here is what I did this week on my lunch hour:

Monday: Walked along the towpath, jogged a little bit of it, ate soup at my desk

Tuesday: Edited a little at my desk, ate soup at my desk

 

Wednesday: Walked along the towpath, sat on a bench, cried a bit because my brother is ill and called him

 

Thursday: Sat on a bench in the gym and scribbled in a journal

Friday: Went to Mass, walked into town and went into the yarn shop so I can make this Pratchett DEATH of Rats, grabbed a slice of pizza and walked back.

Dull, huh? Tonight I’ll be home alone, and will probably watch Sherlock Holmes again, because, well, all roads lead to Robert Downey Jr. anyway. That’s the sort of thing Moon people do.

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