Smells Like Holiday Spirit

Nothing like the holidays to cheer you down. To remind you what you haven't got. Every day is the perfect day for a pity party. Especially when you have a blog.

Left the Manno Compound painfully full last night night. Come famished, leave painfully full: that's how every holiday visit tends to go down. In the car home, we talked about the things we couldn't talk about in full company. Some things I wish I could talk about here—but won't, out of respect.

Had an odd dream last night. All my dreams are pretty odd, but this seemed odder, for whatever reason. Perhaps it was exacerbated by the food coma.

Like all odd dreams, the scant 2 hours that have passed since I woke up have obliterated most of the narrative thread. Leaving just fragments of details. A partial cast list. Nicko was in it. (Maybe because J&D were talking about the Nicko/shroom/party incident right before they dropped me off home last night.) Starlee was in it, too. I think she introduced me to a friend, on the street. In front of a brownstone. In San Francisco. Don't recall much else about the dream except that, like most of my dreams, it left me feeling vaguely uneasy.

Which is my status quo. Vaguely Uneasy.
Let's start over. December 26th. 2007. It's quiet as death at the office. Not a fresh death—fresh death is ruled by decomposition, which can be gaseous and clamorous. This is an empty, desiccated death. A pronounced absence of life. There are people here, but they float past like ghosts. Unaware of me or my purpose for sitting here for 10 hours.

I have nothing to look forward to, yet I cannot wait to go home.

Hold that tiger!