That’s how I’ve been feeling lately. Going round and round, with the baggage just piling on.
Maybe it’s the holiday season, maybe it’s the short days and cold weather, maybe it’s Maine, or the way Portland shuts down– in both the commercial sense, where the stores and activities close early or entirely for the season; and in the personal sense, where people just don’t want to be friendly and go out and be nice to people. We’re probably all experiencing some level of SAD.
I knew that winter would suck. Last winter was terrible. It was long and daunting, and I never thought it would end. I had a perpetual storm cloud over my head, just waiting to blizzard over me. I was holding on with laces, wearing down from the weight, threatening to snap. But spring came, and I didn’t need those laces– I broke free, and things looked good again, hopeful, full of life.
And winter is upon us again, and I’ve had to go back to those laces, worn and becoming threadbare. Here’s to hoping they won’t snap. It’s going to be a long season, perhaps even longer than last year.
But it’s sunny today, so while I feel like I’m losing my jaunt (and I apologize to everyone around me for being weird these last few weeks. I’m acutely aware of the strange things that have come dribbling out of my mouth and the idiotic look that has been frozen to my face), I hope this will make up for it, or explain some things:
I love New Year’s Eve. That’s my favorite holiday– you don’t have to worry about gifts, you get to buy a new frock, get a little glitzed up, and rock out with friends and have a bright and shiny time. The New Year brings hope and promise and fresh new start to a stale existence. Someone likened this to When Harry Met Sally (which has always been my favorite film– I definitely need to get that on DVD). I told him that that scared me. The first thing that flashed into my mind was the scene where Sally is overcome with desperation when she learns that her ex is getting married, and she doesn’t know where she went wrong in her life. The other part I saw was Harry alone on New Year’s, reassessing his life. But of course, he rushes to Sally and tells her that the moment you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want that moment to be now. One thing leads to another and happy ending.
I am nowhere near that. There is no chance or even prospect of that happening. I’m somewhere between Sally’s panicked lament, “and I’m going to be 40!!!” and the bewildered, alone on New Year’s Harry. My life plays out like a movie until the happy ending– just a series of comedic, pathetic mishaps to NO end.
I’m flying home again for Christmas this year. This year will be different. I will spending a few days with my parents, at their house. I called my mom and asked her if I’ll be sleeping on the floor again. She said yes, but I can bring my air mattress with me (like that doesn’t weigh 40 pounds and folds up into a 26″ suitcase). Because, you know, having more than one bed in a 5-bedroom house is a ridiculous concept, and keeping my old room totally void of any furniture is not weird, it’s just “minimalist.”
I’m leaving the Friday after; I could have stayed til New Year’s Day, but spending NYE with my parents, who will most likely go to bed well before the ball drops, is only slightly more depressing than passing out on my own couch alone, away from my hometown friends who are all coupled up, or have young kids, or will be somewhere more exciting.
At this point, I’m just carrying on, hoping that one day there will be an out, an open door to something bigger and more promising. This year went completely awry– I was supposed to move to Boston with my boyfriend, have an awesome job, make new friends, save a little money. Instead, my boss rescinded her offer to transfer me, my boyfriend broke up with me (rather unceremoniously, too– 4 1/2 years warrants a face-to-face conversation, or at least a phone call– not a cowardly text message, “I’ve reassessed my life and you’re not in it. By the way, I’m moving to Boston in the spring to open our new location and i’ve been offered an obscenely high salary. Good luck, bitch!”), I have no idea where everyone is, and I’ve been undergoing way too much retail therapy, so I have no idea where my money is either.
So, 2012: please collect your belongings, 2013 is en route and there’s no room for your crap.