Between Home and Traveling

In between home and traveling there is this awkward space. At home, free time can be put to use doing one of a myriad tasks- cooking, cleaning, laundry, bills, rearranging, tinkering, even napping. When traveling, the travels themselves can be an all-consuming experience as well. But in between, there is this odd place: the mid-trip pause. In the pause, there is no particular destination or goal to reach, but also a lack of the typical chores that are always available at home.
Needless to say, I am in a mid-journey pause.
I have been occupying my time hanging out with friends that I made during the summer of 2004, bouncing from party to party and couch to couch as though that were all there was to life. Part of me enjoys the whole affair, but a big part of me is starting to feel lonely as well- there has to be more to life than this. I feel nagging urges to be productive, to clean something, to build or destroy, to renovate, to maintain. To put the time that I have to use, doing something- anything really, to leave a sign that I am here, that I am. But even here there is a tension: between the urge to leave a wake behind me and the desire to leave no trace, to leave things as they lie, to change nothing and alter nothing in a place that is not my own.