Bill, aka the Crazy Clock Guy, aka Hey You (tallguy) wrote,
Bill, aka the Crazy Clock Guy, aka Hey You
tallguy

I hate being alone on Thanksgiving.

Spoken with my family; they're all going to a friend's house.
Spoke to or chatted with a few friends; they're all either on their way to or hosting a Thanksgiving dinner.

Me: I'm sitting at home, doing laundry, watching DVDs (because the football game really sucks), and sucking back a few drinks.
I'm allowing myself to fall back into my old habit of drinking alone, and then drinking to excess.

I never go out to restaurants anymore, because I hate dining out alone. On Thanksgiving day, even more so. I was going to get dressed to go out to a Thanksgiving buffet, and a wave of depression, and a little terror, just washed over me.
I'm thinking Thanksgiving dinner is going to be a frozen pizza, some pretzels and cheese dip, and a few more beers.

This is a sick thought: I could get in the car, drive up to Wisconsin this evening, and supposedly help our store up there with their Midnight Madness sale. Thing is, I have no legitimate reason to go there. It just beats the alternative, I guess.

I think the highlight of my day will be going back to bed. I get in less trouble that way.

By doing nothing to improve my situation, I am making a choice to wallow in self-pity. So be it.

Shit, I hate the holidays.


EDIT: Now it's 6:30, and for all intents, Thanksgiving as a family-and-friends-get-together is over, at least for me. I think it's safe for me to go out now, stop by a restaurant for a cup of coffee and a slice of pumpkin pie, and treat this like any other Thursday.

Hope I didn't upset anyone (i.e. SanSan) with my neuroses. Now I miss my friends even more than I did two weeks ago. Wow, I guess the good feelings from my all-too-brief vacation have evaporated.

I promise, Christmas will be better. I'll be with family, not rattling around this tomb of a house. Fair warning, though: after Christmas, there are a few people in New Jersey, especially the Wayne, Sussex County, and Parsippany area who better expect a knock on their door. Wish I could bring the wild woman of Wallington with me, but she's working those days (don't worry; she'll get hers on Christmas eve).
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