Woke up with some awful action taking place in my gut. Felt like something was trying to wring me out. Hopefully it's not the little black worms... I called in sick, since there's no way to work from the men's room in the office. So far, no sign of the worms. After the intenstinal storm passed, I managed to get some sleep. Seems the colonic cyclone has receded, though I can feel it's still lingering...

So now I can putter around at home, and do all those things I never manage to do, like clean up. I leave for Cape Cod, to visit the family for the holidays, on Saturday morning, and come back late Christmas night. Conny arrives the next day, so I have to get everything ready before I go, and there's only two nights left.

I'm not in the mood for Christmas at all. I've basically done no shopping, no decorating. My ex-wife had so much more enthusiasm for holidays in general. My pathology is that holidays tended to be a pain in the ass in my family, so I'm conditioned to prefer business-as-usual. While I was married, I did start to unlearn this, and holidays were a lot of fun. The first year I was living with my ex, before we were married, we didn't have a Christmas tree, for some pragmatic reason like we weren't going to be home Christmas day, or such, and she never let me forget it. She's much healthier about such things which add structure to a life. I slowly remove structure from my life until suddenly it's a total bog, and I find myself getting depressed for no reason.

Not that I'm getting depressed. Actually, I'm quite happy. I don't mind that's it's Christmas. I just have other things on my mind. Well, I have one main thing on my mind really, and she's coming after Christmas, so perhaps that's why my focus is elsewhere. Christmas can't be over with soon enough for me.

I spoke to my sister for a long time last night. It had been several weeks since we spoke. Of all the people in my familiy, I'm closest to her, and have the best relationship. Oddly, I haven't seen in her in several years. Where does the time go? And, writing this makes me remember, I need to call my Mom. I'm a bad, bad son.
posted 1:54 PM | link |