solitude.

I'm working late tonight and I've just been feeling so tired and bitchy recently that I needed that morning to sleep in guilt-free. My roommate's out of town so the cat has taken it upon herself to be friendly, waking me up with sandpapery kisses, hinting that I should be feeding her.

I don't mean to be like this, it's just sometimes all those little things pile up, the minor frustrations, ghosts of relationships past and current unwanted attention coming back to haunt me in the form of facebook messages and voicemails. It's nothing that bad, but also nothing I want anything to do with.

The emptiness of the apartment doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. Hearing the sounds of the dog and the baby on the other side of the wall, the thump of car stereo systems pulsing down the street, the sirens fading into a texture that becomes white noise. I've found that absolute quiet doesn't exist. There is always something humming.