I finally found a new housemate. She is smart and funny and interesting and educated and 34 and Japanese. She is relieved to find someone who is all those things (except for 34 and Japanese) and not xenophobic. I am relieved to find someone who won't make me feel like a house mother.
She'll inspire me to be neater and cleaner and to cook more. I'll introduce her into the bosom of my friends who are my family. She's learning to play violin, and her practicing will spur me to properly obey my master's order to practice a little every day.
She will learn to love the cats. And she will keep me from being so lonely.
I've been very lonely. It was my loneliness as well as horniness that made me consider dating men again after admitting I was a failure as a lesbian. When the philosopher is here I am so happy, so full, so comfortable in having someone sharing my life, even if just for 4 or 5 days. And then he leaves, and till now I would have neither the freedom of the house to myself nor the support and distraction of a housemate with whom I could really relate.
I think I won't be as lonely now. I think I won't be as needy. I feel bad about how I've been subjecting my master to my moodiness. He is a saint for enduring it as he has been, and for doing his best to snap me out of it. But it gets old after a while, and I worry about driving him away.
I will always need you, master. I will always miss you. But I'll do better now. I'll go back to being the bouncy, irrepressible kitten who amuses you so. And it will be even more amusing for you to say the magic words and hear my voice change and know that you have sent me plummeting into subspace.