Leaving on a Jet Plane

     Well, this is it. We're leaving tonight. It helps that both my boys are gone now so no tearful scenes at the airport.

      My younger son left early this morning to go with his girlfriend to her dad's place for a week. He was super-excited to go. (I won't even tell you where her dad lives -- you'll just get jealous). I'm jealous. Suffice to say, it's some beautiful spread on a beach not in the U.S. 

      Is he torturing himself with the fact he's far from his daughter and in another country, even though he's nowhere near as far as us -- and no jet-lag is involved? I don't even know him, but somehow, I doubt it. That's just me.  

      Anyway, my boys are fine. It's me that's the problem. I think we've established that. 

      So what now? Wish I knew. 

      The idea of going back to that flat where I could get so desperately lonely just fills me with dread. Sometimes I felt like the walls were closing in on me there like a pack of cards falling in.

      So I'm thinking of just decamping to my side of the hill in Italy as soon as possible for the rest of the summer. Where I might be lonely too, but the sun is often shining, I can go swimming (in my cute new Charleston bathing suit), and the calamari are to die for.  

     But does that just prolong the agony?

     Should I just stay in London and keep looking for a job so I can finally settle there and make a life for myself? Ride my bike like crazy every day to keep the serotonin flowing? Keep looking for a yoga class where I can actually do the yoga?

     Keep trying to pick up stray women in my cappuccino bar to be my new girlfriend? (Yes, I have been known to resort to that. Surprising how interesting a lonely American woman can be to a Brit. In a weird, pathetic kinda way.)

     Or should I just high-tail it to Italy and defer it all to late fall when a small town in Italy is nowhere near as attractive as it is in the summer?

     Don't know. Tired of thinking about it. Tired of being unhappy and rootless. Really tired of myself. And gotta pack now to check out of the hotel. 

     Will write again when I get back.