I'm sad. It's the kind of sadness that comes from boredness, the kind that just sort of engulfs everything, leaving the droning of the tv and the dull rumble of the dishwasher a humming white noise. I'm not stuck on what to do. There's chores and violin and everything else waiting for me downstairs. But I'm happy, somewhat selfishly, because I'm alone. I sigh and stare at the perfect shining red on the bass cradled in my lap.