Thursday, February 12, 2009

Nostalgia: The Silent Killer

Perhaps another year alone really is getting to me, after all. Not usually one to let V-Day get to me anymore, still I started choking up on the MUNI ride home from a work meeting this afternoon, thinking about the last time for this, the last time for that. Secret jokes and smiles, and lazy days; waking up warm in the bed together and drinking together and soaking up the familiar neuroticism. Special moments that I clutch close inside my deepest most secret thoughts, that he probably doesn't even remember. I don't know if I miss him, or if I miss just having someone to share that with. Nostalgia and selective memory are painting everything more beautiful than it was, more sacred. I know better than this, but I still can't help but succumb a little to the siren song of hopelessness.

I think I'm PMSing. That might explain all overwhelming emotion.

Beyond that, I've been in a good mood the past couple of days. A project at work is giving me the chance to become a Daywalker for the last week of February, so I'll actually have the chance to generate some Vitamin D, and see some people I don't usually get to talk to. It will also give me a chance to see how I'd enjoy working during the day, in case I ever do decide to give up my differential and leave Graveyard. Could I survive the ravages of crowded public transit, harsh sunlight, and noisy coworkers? It remains to be seen.

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