Hanging out

My son and I are hanging out together here now, neither of us with much of a life. My husband's been working.
I've got the stirrings of a life. My one week's work a month -- a day next week and then nothing for a couple weeks, though.
I found that yoga class -- and the place that does it, the gorgeous charity in Chelsea, also does a cheap Pilates class on Mondays I want to try next week.
I went out with my London friend and two other ladies to an Indian tapas restaurant in the West End this week.
And I've got my dividing-her-time girlfriend in town from Paris to meet up with tomorrow afternoon. So there are some "bits and bobs," as they say here. (I love that expression).
My son doesn't have a whole lot at the moment, poor love. But he's staying positive.
He has one very exciting thing coming up -- a 6-week internship at the television company where I'm freelancing. They have a big internship program there, with a constantly rotating half-dozen interns starting every six weeks, so he applied when he got here, and luckily, because of a cancellation I think, got a place in one starting at the end of this month, which is quite soon for them.
So he's excited about that. And it gives him something to look forward to.
But it's still aways away.
He'll meet people there, though. We've heard the interns can become a group and hang out together a bit. He needs to meet some kids his own age.
It'll be a bit odd to go to work together, even if it is just for a week -- or two maybe, depending on how my freelance week overlaps with his internship.
In the meantime, we've been hanging out together a lot.
Which must be weird for him. Hanging out with his mother a lot all of a sudden after five years at college.
My husband's got a few days off soon, so they'll hang out together then too.
Next week, my son's high school friend is in town for another couple days, which is fabulous. He's a musician, in a band playing a gig in Camden, back-up to a bigger band at a concert. My son's really excited about that. He's going to get him a back-stage pass. So that's a couple days.
He and I are thinking of going to Italy for a week maybe, to pass some time before the internship, and to check in on that job he's trying to get. Don't know if that'll help or hurt. Take a cheap flight (they actually are cheaper now) and decamp to our side of the hill for awhile.
This afternoon, though, we're going to go catch a movie in the West End. I think we'll take a double-decker bus down there and sit on the top.
That should be fun.
And we've got time. All the time in the world.
It's a sunny weekend afternoon. Hundreds of people on the High Street here, doing their Saturday thing, shopping, having breakfast with friends, picking up the newspaper, a bunch of flowers from the stand on the corner.
Will this ever feel like home to my son?
Or to me?