When I am alone, I clean. Whether this is because I finally notice the mess or because there is time to do it or because it soothes me, I don’t know. But the kitchen has not been this clean since we moved into the house. I have weeded out books, decided to recycle magazines, moved clothes into give away and repurpose piles.

I also exercise. Since I don’t have to be at any place at any particular time, I find it easier to go for a bike ride, take a long walk, play with my Wii. Moving my body seems obvious; going outside becomes intuitive rather than fraught.

I eat less. I can eat whenever and whatever I want. The only preferences I have to juggle are my own. This week, apparently, what I really want is cheese. I’ve been eating grilled cheese sandwiches, mac and cheese, and tomato and cheese salad. This morning’s breakfast was the most complicated meal I’ve made in days and it was just sweet potato, onion, and black bean hash with a fried egg on top. I’ll probably have it for dinner, too.

I nap. Cricket and I do not see entirely eye to eye on what a reasonable hour to wake up might be. She does, however, completely understand napping. She’s giving a demonstration on the comfy chair behind me right now.

I read, but not as much as I thought I would. I keep getting involved in other things, like making collages and writing and thinking about sewing.

And I enjoy the quiet. My life is sometimes entirely too loud. Right now, the regular ticking of the clock serves as metronome to the more irregular tapping of keys and that is plenty of music for me.