Sort of in a melancholy mood. One of those melancholy moods in which you still feel like making plans with everyone you know. Nah, an urge to do so. And becoming inconsolable at understanding that it is simply impossible. A mood in which you’re both dreading and impatient for the next day to arrive with its bundle of new opportunities for passing passersby and producing productivity. Some daylight again at last to simulate the conditions around walking into the same coffee shop you walked into (but didn’t get anything) during the day, possibly more so because tomorrow’s obligations will make it impossible for you to go do it again in person.
You know, the desire to constantly be somewhere else, and so also a desire for daylight when you dread waiting. A painfully commonplace desire with a necessary romantic (and expensive) flair.