When you live in a house on your own, you just take care of whatever comes up, lawn-wise, garbage-wise, appliance-wise and other-wise. There is no need for thinking.
When you are newly alone in a house on your own, you notice sounds you may have dismissed before, even those you automatically blame on the cat. Especially those you automatically blame on the cat, when you spy her, out of the corner of your eye, sleeping nearby.
Orion is visiting his dad tonight, so I am the only human in this house. All the kitties are asleep.
So now, there is a raccoon staring at me through the window. (True enough, it startled me at first, proving once again that in these sorts of encounters I tend to freeze like a guinea pig for a few seconds before acting. I think well enough, but not so quickly I'd ever be mistaken for an action hero.) Then it scuttled away and is now back. I'm not particularly afraid of raccoons and, apparently, neither are they of me. Probably it wants some of my peanuts, which are boiled in the shell, and warm.
Another thing about being the only human in the house is that I can watch as much cheesy old science fiction as I like, while eating exactly what I want, in pajamas that don't at all match.
This evening is for taking a break from thinking about things, or myself, or anyone I know. Learning to do this is a required course as it's extremely useful. Soon, sleep in cool desert air. We'll see what this does for your artist's brain.
I'll let you know. g'night