I’m beginning to get messages and emails from strangers. Ignoring the one or two that call me a crackpot, some virtual strangers have expressed some concern for me. This is really sweet. But not so necessary. And here’s why.

I’m not completely an agoraphobic. I actually like the outside. For one thing there’s a lot more of it. I even used to travel. Some would say too fearlessly. Perhaps not smartly, though.

And the truth is, since I’ve started this project, I haven’t really had to change my life much. I used to work at home. I used to draw and paint and write and take photos. I used to walk my dog. I’m still doing all those things. And I’m not completely a recluse yet. I haven’t, say, taken to watching my apartment security camera as if it were a reality TV show. I’m not quite that cut off yet. I still have friends over, occasionally. I still talk to people on the phone.

Sometimes I shave even. It’s also true that I’m beginning to miss a few things. I miss taking pictures of people. I miss brunch. Most of my friends are supportive. I’m sure some of them thought I would give this up by now. But I’m not missing much.

And while I indulge a bevy of bad habits I also have some good ones. I’m not nearly the color of the underside of a dead fish yet. I still know how to speak. I’m taking an extended sabbatical whereby I make some money mindlessly and I get to go down my list of projects. And for the most part it’s nearly altogether lovely.

There are lots of things that I’m not missing. I’m not missing public transit. I’m not missing tiresomely slow and impassable pedestrians. Meanwhile, I’ve become perhaps too attached to my space. I’ve become very fond of my toilet. I never liked going to the bathroom in public. I would go to heroic lengths to avoid defecating in any space that wasn’t my own. When I used to work in an office tower, I would go to a floor I knew to be quieter, when nature pressed me, to do my business. I worked in a few offices and I always knew the best (read: the emptiest) toilets in the building. I need an empty bathroom.

And now, I like knowing that while I’m working, while I’m writing or drawing or reading or painting, my CD player, my coffeemaker, my ashtray, my toilet, my fridge are a few steps away. Yes, it’s not ideal. Yes, it’s not really the way people are supposed to live. But it’s not that bad either and for all my new concerned friends, I’m doing just fine. Really.

SS