Dear Diary

Every time I hear some not entirely expected noise, I jump or at least twitch a bit, worrying that someone else is here. It's just the light wind rattling the windows a bit, surely. I'm not afraid of intruders--I'm afraid someone will want to talk to me. Yet I'm lonely.

It's probably time to put on some music and tune out the rest of the world. Either that or call up someone's answering machine again.

(Note: I did make some semi-important phone calls today, though not much gets accomplished the day before a long federal weekend.)