When I first moved here, my cousin Trevor gave me a very valuable solution for when I felt slightly lonely/homesick**; and that was to do something productive (at least I think he told me that....or did I figure it out myself?) at any rate, having missed my brother's phone call this morning and it being a rainy day today, I spent a lot of time cleaning up my files and (as Katrin once put it) "moving bits of paper around". I also wanted to take a picture of the view out of the window at my desk (especially as the tube goes by, because that's my favourite bit about it) and after trying various settings on my camera, decided that a night view of the tube out my window wouldn't work (short of hanging myself out of it...the window I mean...not the tube...) After several attempts though, I realised that the Mysterious Workaholic Man who sits at his desk in the window directly across from mine was watching. I suppose the many flashes caught his attention. I wonder if he now thinks I'm a stalker! This man, with the flat-screen monitor, has long intrigued us. We used to think he was an author, but one day as I was passing by I noticed his screen didn't seem to be filled with words (perhaps he's a bad author). We started wondering if he's one of those guys who makes a living selling things on ebay. Or maybe the girl thinks he's at work all day each day when he's really gambling online. He lives there with a girl, and possibly a lodger (not entirely sure though). What we do know is that he's about 30-35 and spends about 15 hours/day at his computer, it seems. He and the girl had a significant day a few weeks ago, because we noticed he had got a haircut, and that evening they were eating their dinner by candlelight (their kitchen is three windows left of the hallway where he has his computer, and one to the left of where the bedroom is. We're stumped on where the bathroom is. It must be facing the other side of the flat).
I wonder what he thinks of us. I wonder if he's made up stories about the two girls who don't always close all three of their front blinds at night (which we would, if it weren't for the lovely view of the Tube going past). I wonder if he thinks we're writers too, and wishes we could help him with his writer's block (The Flatmate and I once discussed putting a note through their mailslot inviting them for tea so we could find out what he actually does). It amazes me that we live 40 feet from each other, but apart from a common recycling and rubbish collection day, we might as well live in parallel universes. If I opened my window,I could probably yell "Oi! Mystery Workaholic Man!" and he would hear me (I wonder if he would open his window and yell back. I don't think so, somehow. He looks too distinguised for that!) Maybe he has never noticed us at all! At any rate, I doubt he'd ever suspect I've just spent the past 20 minutes writing about him...all because I feel slightly lonely and wanted to do something productive tonight. I wonder if he had known that, if he would have popped around for a drink (hopefully with the girl, as I don't want to be accused of doing anything untoward!) and what we would chat about.
Well, he has left, and I think I'll get back to my sorting. I'll be very glad to have it done.
And I don't feel lonely anymore. Thanks Trevor, for that little bit of advice that's helped me through many evenings of being three feet from a rat.
**Don't worry, Parental Unit. I don't feel lonely often, and when I do, it's just in passing. Nothing to worry about! But you can always put an apple fritter in the post if you think it will help. I'll heat it up so that it doesn't taste too stale!
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