The house isn't empty, but there is an emptiness in it.

No movie tonight--we had to fuss around getting to a restaurant that wasn't too crowded, and I felt so very put out, like a child, that I just didn't want to see Margot at the Wedding. In fact, I might never want to see that movie. We were home by 8:30. Bruiser was whole-body-waggingly glad to see us. College daughter was out with her friend. Our bed is kind of nestlike, with the historian gently snoring and the dog curled up between us. I realized earlier today that one time I miss my son is when I pick up my cell phone, because I usually texted him sometime during the day, and now I won't, and he won't be texting me either. Or when we lock the door when the three of us--me, the historian, college daughter--are home. No one else will be coming home tonight. Watching a crappy movie on television. Should just go to sleep. Will, soon. Getting the television to a volume that is still audible but won't disturb the historian--I'm pretty good at it. Should just go to sleep. Will, soon.