I read the last of my recently checked-out library books this month in about three days: Robert Silverberg’s “Longest Way Home.”
I haven’t read many of his books; perhaps I should try some others. I finished this book on my birthday (December 5th).
I had a pretty decent birthday, nothing fancy. I took my son out to eat for dinner. My sister gave me some lovely flowers and a pair of leggings.
I thought I was content, but on Friday I decided to stop for a beer or two at Aqus. Perhaps I was feeling some kind of lack. What I realized is that I was feeling particularly lonely. It happens now and then.
I sat there looking at all the people – there was a table full of teachers near me and as I heard bits of their conversations, something about it disturbed me and brought up all this icky school stuff that I’ve been dealing with. I started thinking about how screwed up things seem. And as I gazed around, wishing there was someone I could just sit and talk to, it suddenly started occurring to me that perhaps I just do not FIT here. And then I started feeling like I don’t seem to really FIT anywhere anymore. What happened to having friends to hang out with? Why am I always alone? And I started feeling so meaningless and old and stupid. And when I got home, and found that both my son and my sister were holed up in their respective rooms, no sign that anyone even knew I was gone – well it just hit me hard and I got really depressed. And my state of mind was such that, despite not having but two beers, I started feeling sick and dizzy and ended up throwing up in the bathroom. Not good.
But I guess it isn’t that uncommon to have strange emotions around one’s birthday; especially when you’ve been alive for so many decades of birthdays it defies belief. I’ll get over it.
And I just now have finished reading a very, very good and amazing book: Fingersmith, by Sarah Waters.
“Oliver Twist with a twist…Waters spins an absorbing tale that withholds as much as it discloses. A pulsating story.”—The New York Times Book Review
The next book I am going to read is The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco. I have heard of this book a lot, but never thought to read it until my sister informed me she has a copy. How I love a good book!
(Feeling better already).