Hey, wait for me. On second thought, go ahead.

I took a late afternoon nap yesterday and woke up feeling hollow and emptied out with a sort of thin fog inside. It was like the circus had packed up and left without me while I slept. All that remained were the muddy tracks of tires, shoes, and animals and a little scattered hay. It persists this morning, that emptiness, and my elbow still isn't proper. I bought a big jar of local honey yesterday and some Yak Trax, the diamond kind, so I can stay on my feet the next time I'm out in the woods. Maybe that would clear this feeling.

I was the only lone valentine in the restaurant tonight. They set two roses in a vase on the table for me. I ordered a beer and a Mai Tai together and drank them both. A couple in their early twenties was seated at a table just beyond the perimeter of my six-foot-safety-zone. They spoke to each other for a moment and then retreated to their respective phones. This saddened me for a few minutes. But then my dinner arrived and I didn't give a damn anymore. I ate in peace - enjoying the food, the drink, the lack of tension, and the total absence of the anxiety that comes with trying to meet or exceed another's unspoken expectations. It may look a little awkward eating alone in a restaurant on St. Valentine's Day, but it feels pretty fucking good.