The first few days of my break were rocky at best: I hermitted myself in the house for the weekend and did next to nothing but eat and sleep and chide myself for doing nothing but eating and sleeping, and listening to my demons tell me that I am useless and going nowhere and facing 50 in January and alone and sad and miserable and man I have really fucked up this life thing. I have no friends who I feel like I can just call up and invite over (and if I did, I would be embarrassed to have them over because my house looks like hobos live in it); I have no discretionary funds to invite anyone to meet up for dinner or drinks or anything. I am alone, I am lonely, and neither seems likely to change anytime soon. The icing on the cake came Sunday, when I sat slothlike on the couch and watched my TV’s picture shrink to a line the height of a single pixel. Oh, my demons had a field day with that: “Ha ha ha, you don’t even get to watch meaningless, vapid television! You FAIL!”
Things began turning the corner on Monday…spending an afternoon with my brother was good for the soul. We have that sort of “secret language” that all siblings do, and the ability to make each other laugh uproariously about things that no one else gets, or ever could get, or even should get. A few hours together planning for my Dad’s birthday the following day really helped to lift my spirits. Yesterday was spent celebrating with Dad, and even though we met with immense frustration trying (and failing) to get a motion-sensor camera to work for him – thanks in large part to the most obtusely written instructions printed in the smallest font imaginable and littered with those goddamn pictograms that no one who speaks any language can actually decipher – the day was wonderful. Good food, many laughs, great conversations. I am blessed with a family who can go from deep, philosophical discussion to surrealistic imaginings to near slapstick-level comedy and back again, and time I spend with them is always so very enjoyable. Hell, Dad even had a spare TV he could offer as a holdover until I can actually afford to properly replace the one that died.
I decided I need a change of scenery - to get up and get out and go…somewhere. And tomorrow, that’s what I am going to do. I am “going ghost” for a day. I do not know where I will end up, whether it will be somewhere where I stay overnight or whether I will come home the same day. It may be more of a mental scenery change than a physical one, but then again I may just get on a train and see where it takes me for a day. The need is there to shake things up, to break the dull predictability, to change habit patterns and shock the hell out of my demons -- and maybe out of those of you who know me. There is an old saying that if you keep doing what you always did, you’ll keep getting what you always got. What I’ve always been doing for these past 15 or 20 years clearly has not worked, and there was a time in my life when I was much more spontaneous, much more willing to risk, much more willing to try something new, much more likely to keep people guessing. I need a sense of that back in my life, even if just for a day or two.
I still have half a vacation in front of me; I intend to use it to its fullest. I intend to go find something or someone or someplace new. Hell, if find something I like well enough, I may not come back -- certainly not as the same person.
Midlife crisis? Who, me? Maybe. Probably likely. But then again, maybe this is the kind of kick in the ass I need to begin to make the changes I have always wished for. Time will tell whether it sticks, or whether this is me rambling on meaninglessly again.
Dammit, where’s my rum?