I didn't do too much yesterday. I think my mind was focused on getting this "30 in 30" project off the ground and trying to get some photos edited while the cat was asleep, but it just feels like the details of a whole block of time just faded away. It tends to happen whenever I don't make plans with anyone or go out, or even if I can't decide what I want to watch (the perils of having such a ridiculously large DVD collection), but periods of inaction make the weekends seem quicker to slip through my fingers more than if I were to keep my social calendar full. I could be resting, but my mind's always on all these things I should be doing to fill the time.
Today was busier; I spent the afternoon visiting a friend I hadn't seen in a while. We had coffee at his place before going with his partner and their two dogs to the trails at York Redoubt. I don't think I had seen them in almost a year, despite living in the same city. I had another friend over at my place on Wednesday, and we hadn't been able to spend time together in almost six months. It's mostly my fault: I'm terrible at making plans with people, and usually assume that they have better things to do, especially now that a lot of my friends are Responsible Adults (some with children). Making plans is difficult in the best of circumstances, but even moreso whenever I'm exhausted from work or otherwise feel my sociability is compromised in any way. Whenever money was thin, I would use that as my main excuse for not going out more. I usually overcompensate for this whenever I have money or the sudden realization to reach out to other people, then tire myself out from being over-social, and the pattern repeats.
I got a letter from a friend on Friday; an actual letter delivered by our gutted postal service (home delivery has been scaled back in favour of "community mailboxes", but my apartment building still gets mail delivered). There are things you can really only say in letters that don't really work over social media or even in e-mail. The act of letter-writing feels more deliberate than sending an e-mail, even though I agonize over drafts of the latter just the same. I love getting mail either way, though, so this was a nice boost; I just need to find the time and space to work on my reply.
What do I want to achieve with this 30 in 30? On one hand I need the discipline to write regularly, but I also hope this actually leads to new and renewed connections and meaningful conversations with other people. Otherwise this is just the equivalent of thinking out loud.