Foggy Mornings and Espresso

It's nearly 7:20 and I've been up since 4:30. While I would love to say that I'm upset by this, I'm really not. It's been a productive, peaceful sort of morning. It occurred to me that the almost complete silence in my apartment wasn't likely to last long, so I broke out my novel and made some serious progress. Sure enough, at 6 am the music from the neighbor's place started up. Still, the peace was nice while it lasted.

It's a beautiful morning here on the East Coast. It's foggy. This is something I wouldn't normally be aware of, as the fog usually burns off before I bother to look outside, but this morning I agreed to drive The Husband to the company building--he's going on some sort of week-long training mission, which I'll come back to--and I was greeted by thick, rolling fog. Have I ever mentioned how much I love the fog? It just seems to scream Autumn.

I came home, brewed some espresso, steamed the milk and sat down with my breakfast of Cheetos, hoping to get some more words out of me before the music got too loud or I got too frustrated. It hasn't happened, though. Instead, I'm grappling with a strange sense of loneliness.

As I said earlier, The Husband has gone away for training. This isn't anything especially abnormal, however this time I had no notice. It makes it harder, somehow, because I haven't had time to come to terms with the fact that I am once again sitting alone in a house 2000 miles away from everything I love. Usually when he leaves, I've had time to not only come to terms with this, but to turn it into a positive. For instance, I could say that this second week of training this month means I only have to cook and clean for myself which, in turn, means that I've just scored another two hours a day at least in which I can write(which isn't to say, that he hasn't been supportive of my writing). So, this is definitely a positive, I tell myself.

It's not helping.

Maybe I'll feel less maudlin when the sky is no longer gray and I manage to clear some of this blood out of my caffeine system.

Homesick

It's been raining for nearly 24 hours straight. To some of you this may be commonplace. For me, it's a first. Though it is lovely, it only highlights the extreme homesickness I've been battling over the last few weeks.

The leaves are changing here. It's beautiful, but I can't help but think of the fiery beauty that is Nebo Canyon or Spanish Fork at this time of year. Or the way that the mountains are slowly being repainted gold and scarlet.

I miss the way the air smells, still dry and hot but with hints of earthiness that only exists when the seasons are changing from Summer to Fall and Winter to Spring. The air here is too humid to smell of anything but leaf-rot.

I miss the haze of forest fires, the burning in my nose and tickle in the back of my throat; the violent orange of the clouds and moon and the false flurries of ash.

I miss the mountains.

I miss Cafe Rio and Malt Shops and really shitty Mexican food. I miss the good stuff, too. I miss knowing how to get around and logical street layouts and the stars. The food here, well, it has come up lacking. Baltimore drowns out the stars.

I miss hanging out at Barnes and Noble in Orem and listening to people talk. People here don't sit still long enough to be observed. I miss White Chocolate Mocha with Hazelnut from the Coffee Pod and their slightly psychotic live music. I miss my friends.

I miss my family.