Long weekend hurrahs and tears

Christmas is rolling around the corner, and I still have no confirmed plans yet. I'm trying my hardest not to be anxious about it. It's a long weekend, and I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off (but joyfully) on Saturday. Had breakfast with a couple of friends, late lunch with another, a movie with a fourth, and the most scrumptious dessert spread in the evening with a room full of lovely people.


I should be doing report cards for my students, but I'm going to procrastinate until this evening. I should be going grocery-shopping, but I'll dig deep into my cupboards instead. I'm taking a moment. I need this moment. I'm listening to Ray Lamontagne. Yesterday, he had made me cry. Okay, so he didn't make me cry, but I was down on myself, and he helped set the mood for tears to flow forth. I got set off by the tiniest things yesterday – I had found something unexpected lying about my apartment that reminded me of someone. I could have smiled just as easily as cried, but yesterday, I chose to cry. Actually, the crying chose me. I wanted to reach out to people, but waited for them to reach out to me instead, while I moped. I had talked to my parents, but had little to report and became upset. My mind kept rehashing the comments some acquaintances had said, jokes that had not been intentionally hurtful, but somehow, those are always the worst. Yesterday, I wanted to leave this small town behind.


I'm feeling a bit better today. I'm not dizzy any more, I've eaten some “real” food, and might even attack that remaining laundry pile that has been calling me for the past week and a half.


November is NaNoWriMo (National Novel-Writing Month). Apparently 97% of the material that comes out of aspiring writers this month is (or will be) crap. Perhaps this is a valid excuse for me to wait till December to start my writing project.