The Grotesque Arms of Reality

It’s Saturday night and mom’s house is so quiet. This is always the toughest part of the Thanksgiving holiday. After a few days of an amazingly relaxing and fun-filled family fest, the house gets quiet. Almost everybody has left town, or at least the loud, unruly ones have. Suddenly reality peers its ugly head from around the corner, reaching its grotesquely long arms out to grab hold of me and yank me back into its mighty embrace. It's pretty scary, when it comes right down to it. Then again, perhaps I'm being a bit overly melodramatic, but I seem to be living in a Calvin & Hobbes world lately anyway, so it all makes sense. The fact is, it’s always tough for me to go back to work after Thanksgiving vacation and this one is no different.

But I’m tired now. It's been a long day and an even longer night. It was a whirlwind smorgasbord of cheese, sushi, chocolate cake, wine, beer and port. I’m going to go to sleep now. I’ll start becoming stressed again tomorrow.

Leave me alone.