While the computer was booting up I was sitting here, thinking about the day and what I would say about it. I kept thinking what a nice day it had been. I haven't had such a pleasant day in a long time.

But I didn't do anything special. I got up; set up Norm's meds, made the bed and had breakfast. Went out to do a flurry of errands and picked up lunch on the way back. Ate lunch, played with the dog in the back yard. Did loads of laundry, weeded the garden, sorted the bills, cleaned off the kitchen table, made dinner, watched "My Left Foot" with Norm. Nothing really special.

Then it dawned on me that what made today so special was the absence of angst; the dearth of sturm und drang from my life for just one day. No questions to answer, no problems to resolve, no knotty conundrums to unravel, nossir. What made the day remarkable was that I could flow from one task to another easily, following my nose as it were, just as the spirit moved me, at the pace that was most congenial to my energy and interest levels.

Quite a change from the usual high emotional tone. At work, my friends are drama queens, some of them gay, a few of them not. Everything is a crisis, in high drama. And if there isn't an exigency, then a prior one will be dredged up and revisited viva voce. My nerves get frazzled--I was raised in New England where a scene is avoided at all costs, and nervous breakdowns are had privately.

At home too, everything is questions, decisions, problems. Today was a wonderful break in the pattern. The battery is recharged and I am ready for the week. I would enjoy living alone, but that's not in the cards. I enjoy my solitude, and its rarity makes it precious.