I'm not entirely sure this is universal but I do imagine I'm not alone in this and that it's actually quite a bit more common than I'd think it is. So much of the time I spend alone I feel as though I don't quite exist. Unless I'm doing something Big. A Saturday walking around town and running errands or a Monday evening spent cleaning up and showering and preparing for the week are just black holes. I didn't "do" anything with them, I have no proof that anything even happened at all, other than the stocked fridge or the clothes back on their hangers. If I make something or I really do something (a hike, perhaps) I feel like the time actually passed in a meaningful way. Not in the sense that I find those things meaningful, which I do, but in the sense that every minute was put toward something. Sometimes, it can be shocking to be out running errands and look down at your watch and see that hours have gone by and all you've done is bought one book, tried to come up with a good grocery list, and found out that the art supply store you wanted to go to is closed for renovations. Why do things happen the way they do?
I deleted twitter from my phone yesterday morning. We'll see how long that lasts. Before you ask, yes I did still check in the evening yesterday from my laptop. And tonight, too. I've been told that's harm reduction.
Maybe continuing to exist when nobody else is around is one of the more difficult things I'll have to learn to do in my 20s.
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