Seattle is buried under slush
All the snow that was pretty and white (albeit unnavigable) is turned to grey slush; you can’t walk on the top of it, you can only step through it to the disgusting, sandy cold puddle that apparently runs throughout the entire city beneath the slush.
I’m writing this on the bus, where I am making my way back to Bellevue. Maybe I’m getting sick, maybe it’s the dark weather or the cold or something else, but I’m crashing. Is this what people talk about when they say how the holidays make them sad, or stressed? I’ve always loved the holidays; my family gathers happily, and exchanges presents, and eats great food. We have a well-worn set of holiday traditions all our own, which usually involves talking late into the night, playing board games, watching a lot of tv, and, of course, the silliest and most organized of present-openings. And, of course, I get to spend whole days with the four most important people in my life. Two of them I haven’t seen for half a year, so this is indeed a special treat, and maybe that’s part of how I feel now, the sadness at knowing they’ll be gone in 24 hours, and who knows when I’ll see them next?
It’s all a sign of something good, though, I know; if I’m sad that they’re leaving then it’s only because I love them so much. Better that than the alternative, right?
Of course, we’re also creeping up on New Year’s, and this hasn’t necessarily been the best year for me. I remain stuck in a job which I hate more and more, which has no future for me careerwise; but the time when I started really looking for something new was roughly the same time that the economy came crashing down like a shellful of China in Southern California. Of course, it’s a good job in many ways — it pays adequately, has great benefits, a fair amount of security — but it’s also a waste of my time. I’m learning nothing anymore, and spend more time being told what *not* to do than actually doing anything.
I want a do-over.