Saturday, December 28, 2002
After only three nights of indulgence, I find my addiction to Benadryl and self-medicated sleep rearing its gruesome head. My parents' home boasted ample rewards for my habit, but, unfortunately, I exhausted my personal stores of those lovely pink and white pills during a particularly difficult week in late November. I am left jittery and wired with no immediate hopes of slumber and a wake up call expected in a few hours. Rather than squirm under the sheets for the next hour while sleepless frustration builds to a boiling point, I might as well dump the load I've been trudging around for the past week.
Christmas was an odd mix of disappointment and relief. It was nice to be home, even nicer to leave my burdens on the front stoop for the week. I was hardly carefree but could be as lazy and self-indulgent as I wanted without the threat of recourse or judgement. But the holiday was rushed and lacking of the warm sentiment so prevalent in Hallmark Movies of the Week. I'm sure one day as my family and I gather around the television to watch the ghosts of Christmas's past we'll inject our own fond memories as a sort of director's commentary, but, for now, my recall is at a bit of a loss. Not to say that Christmas lacking in any way, just that it wasn't at all what I had expected.
Being back in Gainesville, in my empty home, reeling from the fight I had with my father earlier, I am not surprised to find myself unhappy and my thoughts drifting to San Francisco. Today, at their house, my grandparents were adamant in voicing their disapproval in my decision to move and echoed the sentiments my parents have attempted to conceal. "Yes, Papa, I know that the cost of living there is very expensive. Yes, sir, I know the city has lots of homeless people. Actually, sir, I found the people I met there to be rather nice." The end of the evening came with a half-hearted promise to think over my choices and to possibly consider settling somewhere a bit closer to home. Unfortunately for them, and just about everyone else genetically linked to me, the impending New Year has strengthened my resolve exponentially. Unfortunately for me, I'm beginning to realize how my move will fray the already delicate strands of my support structure.
I'm finally beginning to feel weight of my eyelids, but the thought of the brief nap awaiting me offers no relief. I just hope the New Year has some happiness stored away in its thousands of moments. Even just a scrap. At this point, I'd settle for seconds.
#
Christmas was an odd mix of disappointment and relief. It was nice to be home, even nicer to leave my burdens on the front stoop for the week. I was hardly carefree but could be as lazy and self-indulgent as I wanted without the threat of recourse or judgement. But the holiday was rushed and lacking of the warm sentiment so prevalent in Hallmark Movies of the Week. I'm sure one day as my family and I gather around the television to watch the ghosts of Christmas's past we'll inject our own fond memories as a sort of director's commentary, but, for now, my recall is at a bit of a loss. Not to say that Christmas lacking in any way, just that it wasn't at all what I had expected.
Being back in Gainesville, in my empty home, reeling from the fight I had with my father earlier, I am not surprised to find myself unhappy and my thoughts drifting to San Francisco. Today, at their house, my grandparents were adamant in voicing their disapproval in my decision to move and echoed the sentiments my parents have attempted to conceal. "Yes, Papa, I know that the cost of living there is very expensive. Yes, sir, I know the city has lots of homeless people. Actually, sir, I found the people I met there to be rather nice." The end of the evening came with a half-hearted promise to think over my choices and to possibly consider settling somewhere a bit closer to home. Unfortunately for them, and just about everyone else genetically linked to me, the impending New Year has strengthened my resolve exponentially. Unfortunately for me, I'm beginning to realize how my move will fray the already delicate strands of my support structure.
I'm finally beginning to feel weight of my eyelids, but the thought of the brief nap awaiting me offers no relief. I just hope the New Year has some happiness stored away in its thousands of moments. Even just a scrap. At this point, I'd settle for seconds.
#
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