And so it has begun. Sleeping in a chair is bittersweet; while I do appreciate being able to walk when I get up in the morning, it is just not the same as sleeping in a bed.

I have noticed that driving around in a big city late at night is very lonely. Not because there aren't any cars around, rather, because there are a lot of cars around. I understand that this seems counterintuitive, but in my reality, no one is supposed to be out at 11 o'clock at night. (Except, of course, for me and the few other people like me who don't know enough to go to bed.) But in a big city, there are a lot of people driving around, and the city accommodates that; the stoplights and whatnot behaving as they do all day long, with no comprehension of the hour. In a smaller place, on the contrary, people do actually go to bed (or at least have the sense not to leave the house). And the city infrastructure changes in understanding. There's something friendly about the stoplights blinking yellow on my way home, as if to say, "Hey! Goodnight! I'm taking a break too. Go on through, there's no traffic." I suppose this feeling of loneliness is not far removed from the mild depression I feel when the weather fails to consult the calendar, e.g. when I'm running the air conditioner in December.

my poor neglected blog

In order to appease the angry masses as a result of my shameful, though temporary, abandonment of my blog, I submit a cute picture of small children. (Hey, what's the use in having children if you can't use them as cannon fodder every once in a while? Seriously, calm down, it's a joke.)



Every so often I feel like I need to draw back, regroup, take a mental vacation, something. I'm not terribly proud of it, and I'm sure it's an attitude problem more than anything. I just sometimes get sick of all the things that I "have" to do, so I do nothing.