Post Christmas Blues

The day after Christmas and all through the house, not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse. It's cold and my bed looks especially empty. The blankets lay wrapped in a knot of wrinkled twirls, the same way I'd left them days ago. I'm greeted by the sudden onset of post-nasal drip, which must surely be the symptom of a mild allergic reaction to my girlfriend's parents' dog, Toby. Christmas was good. Nothing ended in disaster. No trees or houses were burned. The house's burglary alarm did go off, though. All gifts given and received were a hit. There was beer, wine, and far too much food; all of it excellently cooked.

The day after a few days of plenty always takes some recalibration. The emptiness of the apartment you return to feels fuller, heavier, as though the entire vastness of space exists between the foot of your couch and the head of your bed. And you never feel quite alone with your loneliness. It takes on a personality of its own and coughs and sneezes in uneven fits, continually reminding you of its existence. Soon you feel contaminated by it, and quarantined with it.

Alone, and in such bad company.

For this, there's always distraction; some movie or book to get lost in. But perhaps it's better to meditate. To sit alone with these unlocalized feelings of ennui. More and more they seem to accumulate as we age. So then it's probably best to understand it, to discover its weakness, to integrate or extricate it. It is all we can do.

What else? I can't wait for the New Year. I'm eager to eat right and get my pudgy, scrawny ass back in the gym. Holly got me a Vitamix blender. I can use it to juice vegetables and make smoothies. It can even make soups! Yes, I can see us now, going down to the Sunday farmer's market and stocking up on local fruits and vegetables, preparing our own wholesome, hearty meals that we can eat during the week. A return to simpler times. Times before technology and electricity...but with the added conveniences of a high horse-power blender. Ah, modernity.

Well, fuck it - I'm going to watch a Roman Polanski movie called  Repulsion. I've only a few days to enjoy my time at home before I pack everything back into my red duffel bag and head to Vancouver to visit friends.

I predict there will be beer, wine, and far too much food.