Trying to get a handle on one of the reasons for my mood having dipped this week.

I’m feeling isolated, which is nuts because I’m surrounded by people. Except, I feel diluted. It’s not that anyone around me is a bad person - I’m yet to meet a bad person in San Francisco at all - it’s just that I have no close friend here. I very much dislike spending evenings on my own in my apartment, and when choosing to live alone vowed that I’d be social. But while staring at the walls makes for a dismal evening, it’s less uncomfortable than forcing myself around people that I don’t know so well. It’s moments like this that the absence of a great flatmate is emphasised.

I left behind a set of friends who even though I only knew most of them for a year, I could be completely comfortable with. It’s intimidating to think how long it will be until I have that same depth here.

In the mean time I’m up late, Skyping to Dot and my family, clinging on to the closest people I have, some 6000 miles away.

This is the part of moving where it all slows down. The part where you actually have to settle.

I really wish I had some furniture to sit on.