Therapy, take 2

Work was a little wonky today. I am often affected by others’ moods and whims. I sense the prevailing current. So instead of holing up at my desk for lunch, I went to Svea, a Swedish diner down the street, for eggs, potatoes, and pancakes with ligonberries. I read a new book and sipped diner coffee. And on the way back, I stopped into a clothing shop and ended up with a big blue plastic ring. I’m thinking about getting one of those manicures that’s dark dark red, so dark it’s almost black. The ring looks lost on my otherwise-unadorned hand.

Eliina’s gone, Jeff’s gone, I’m going home tomorrow morning for Thanksgiving, so I’m in that weird zone where I need to pack and get ready to switch lives but I would really rather curl up with some wine, throw Henry a tennis ball, and gossip with Eliina or call Jeff and dig for chunks in my pint of Ben n’ Jerry’s. This feels like a lonely in-between state. Tomorrow I will be in Buffalo. That makes no sense to my brain, my Chicago-centric brain.

It’s easy to feel a little melancholy, until I remember that this time last year, I was literally hauling home 150 spiral notebooks full of ungraded work and poring over each one. I also had a giant stack of midterms. We were studying House on Mango Street, and it was not going well. I spent all day for four days straight reading these ninth-graders’ notebook entries in my drafty, mouse-infested one-bedroom. Thankfully that is no longer my life.

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