Last night accentuated for me the risk of suffering from a bout of post-holiday blues. This always happens to me, but usually after my birthday. This year, it is happening a bit quicker.
Although I survived yesterday and had a good time with my girls (wife and daughter), I kind of felt out of place in the home of my wife's relatives, like I did not belong. But then we got home to Summit Avenue, and I left there rather quickly (I am loathe to hang out at the place that once was my home but feels like it no more), went to see Charlie Wilson's War.
What a fun movie that was.
Then on Lark Street, I had a beer...there were a few bars open but the street and the scene was very desolate and to be honest, there is something a bit sad and slightly pathetic about hanging out in a bar on Christmas night. And on top of it all, the pint glass slipped out of my hand and crashed on the floor of the Lark Tavern. I went home.
First I thought I would paint, but I decided against it and just went to bed.
So, with the exception of Christmas Eve and Christmas morning and going to see the movie, I felt very alone, and just a little sad.
This Sunday, I leave for Chicago, and that should be fun.
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