Subtitle this one “When I grow up and get married, I’m living alone” because I might as well be writing about Home Alone again for as much as I’ve got to say, which isn’t much.
It’s one of those days... sort of. The day actually started well, started early. Starbucks and some gridlock on the 5 and then work. Administered a final exam in my public speaking class, worked on my teaching portfolio for instructional communication, forensics class’ final day was mostly uneventful, then TA meeting and instructional comm. In the latter I had a presentation—the mainstreaming of rebellion. A little Simpsons, a little Switched at Birth, and some Hunger Games and my presentation was done, and the long day was finally catching up to me. Got home and turned on a nice wholesome Christmas movie...
Ok, well, that isn’t true. I turned on Black Christmas, and maybe it’s because I’m tired, maybe the movies is just slow and confusing, but I really have little notion of what happened. Unless, of course, the plot is actually simple. I don’t know. I will try that movie again tomorrow, and may throw in some Silent Night, Deadly Night because I know I like that movie; I’ve only seen Black Christmas maybe once that I can remember, and that just barely. It was a long time ago.
It didn’t help that my daughters got into an argument while and I was trying to deal with my new phone that arrived today.
But, that’s life, you know. Sometimes, the noise comes from every direction. Sometimes you wonder what you’re doing, you question some of the choices that have gotten you here. Moments of doubt, of sadness and confusion.
I’m working on a thesis dealing with blogging as a therapeutic and productive (producing self, that is) process. Sometimes, I wonder if the therapy part was over a year ago; I wonder if the blog was tangential to a process fixed by grad school giving my life some structure and moving back in with the kids giving my life some joy. Other times, I remember being happy with my wife, before we were married, when we were married... I remember not feeling so lonely.
It isn’t all the time. I mean, I’ve got plenty of people in my life, family, friends, my kids. But, sometimes, I wish grad school and teaching and coaching left me more spare time. First of all, so that I could be a better father than I am on some of the long days like today. Second of all, to... I don’t know. I figure I’m too old and set in my antisocial ways to get into a new relationship. I won’t go making prank phonecalls and killing people—
That is what happened in Black Christmas, right?
I will go about my days normally.
That is what I do.