Nun Living

This morning I've been lying in bed hiding from the housekeepers, who inexplicably keep banging on the wall. I can't imagine what they are doing, but I'm not going to say anything. I'm just going to lie here in the dark listening to the rain. It has been raining for a long time. This is Southern California; it isn't supposed to be raining for days on end.

Anyway, I'm feeling a little sensitive. I'm not sure if it's the oysters or the PMS, but it seems like my flannel sheets are suddenly feeling very sensuous against my skin. And I sure wish I wasn't in The Middle. Loneliness can be a physically damaging state.

Lately I've been wondering why I take those pills. They aren't intended for lonely people. They are intended for people that are cute and funny and attractive and lovable. I am none of those things. I am spinster girl. It's like diet pills for the starving. And I am definitely starving. I don't need this medication. But I have a six month supply. And I've been taking it for five years; I'm afraid of what'll happen if I don't take it. But the point is, I obviously don't need it, since I'm living like a nun.