Tuesday, November 25, 2014


I'm experiencing de ja vu.  It snowed into the night, and for all I know, the pre dawn morning too.  The drab decay of what was a kaleidoscopic fall is covered in the softness of fresh fallen snow. Every lonely branch shimmers even though the sun has yet to shine.  I hope it stays hidden all day.  Cloud cover is more forgiving and cozy.  Coffee.  Check.  Candle.  Check.   Carols.  Check.  Dean, Bing and other friendly crooners are keeping me company.  This feels a lot like last Tuesday.  And I feel a lot like Oblomov.  Do you know him?  I do.  I met Goncharov's superfluous man sophomore year in Russian Lit, and he comes to mind more often than I like to admit when passivity settles over me.  This ability I have to channel my inner Oblomov is not something I boast about.  The guy frustrated the hell out of me because he barely left his bed or room for the duration of the novel.  Back then I was stuck in a small, cinder blocked dorm room with a girl I barely knew who often overslept and thus rarely went to class.  Every night she would fight with her long distance boyfriend for hours on the phone. I just knew I would never be Oblomov.  That room was a prison and the bed a tomb as far as I was concerned.  All I wanted to do was escape.  I spent as little time as possible in that room.  I rarely even slept there.

I saw her a few months ago.  I was on my way to church.  She crossed the street in front of me as I waited for the light to turn green.  A rush of memories and feelings washed up and over me.  Through me.  Not just of her, but of that time in my life.  It was what I always imagine it will be like to see my life flash before me right before death only this was but a short, albeit profound, chapter. I always pay attention to the things that happen on my way to church.  They rarely feel random.

That being said, I'm not going to beat myself up for feeling introspective and solitary today.  The scene is perfectly set for hunkering down and holing up.  It will be a pot of wild rice and chicken soup day.  A few chapters day.  I'm finally feeling the chi with The Secret History.  I almost abandoned it after 100 pages when I was still not feeling its grip, and then finally it took hold.  It will be a few projects day.  I may even put up my dining room tree.  It's something I have to be in the right space to take on because I decorate it with all of my Mom's ornaments so it tends to be a mushy endeavor.  That's why it's best to take my time with it when I'm home alone.  Today may be the last quiet day before the holiday storm so today it is.