Neither did Virginia Woolf. This room of my own on this island where I am is just PERFECT. I never want to leave. I already told Hepcat that. "I’ll send your things," he said.

I want to move here. The light is beautiful from the first light of dawn to the late afternoon glow. Twilight. Sunset.

And then the fog moves into making for dramatic, foggy nights. Something out of "Wuthering Heights." 

Who could ask for anything more than this room? I could LIVE here. Simple antique furniture. A table for a desk. A fan. Beautiful art on the walls. A deliciously comfortable bed.

Out my window: the ocean in one direction, a garden in another. Down below: two ponds and tall beach grass, reeds.

What more could I need? I rented a Raleigh 7-speed. I’ve got my trusty computer. There’s wireless on the island. A good Internet connection. An outdoor shower. Adirondack chairs. A hammock. A kayak. Many beaches just biking distance away.

A restaurant that serves amazing tuna and monk fish. Eating alone, I sit at the bar and don’t feel funny at all.

Even a movie theater (a huge mob of teens and tweens are lined up for the 9:45 Harry Potter screening).

I am in HEAVEN. Remember that Talking Heads song. "Heaven is a place where nothing, nothing ever happens.

I highly recommend going away by yourself. You can indulge all your idiosyncrasies. You don’t have to ask nobody what to do. You can do whatever you want. Eat whatever you want. Spend the whole day writing if you want. Take a bike ride, go for a run, meditate, read a book.

The Emperor’s Children is very good.

Go to sleep whenever.

Which isn’t to say that I don’t miss OSFO, Teen Spirit, and Hepcat a lot. I do I do. I’m just saying.
I’m just saying.