Monday Morning Commute: A Holiday Special On Ennui!

November 20th, 2017 by Caffeine Powered

How’s it going, folks? Are you segueing into Corpulence Season well? You must prepare to fulfill your duty as a member of the Empire!

Consumption! Things! Stuff! Food! Consumption! Consumption! Consumption!

Hail, Hail, Hail!

Toe the line! Nay, stand in line! You must be checking out mentally while checking out virtually, physically! The form doesn’t matter, only the consumption! The filling and emptying of stomachs, shopping carts, bank accounts, guts, shelves, savings.

Consumption! Things! Stuff! Food! Consumption! Consumption! Consumption!

That’s a negative spin on the whole ordeal, isn’t it?

It is, it is. I exaggerate, I exaggerate. I’m a bit cynical today. One of my students told me I was venting as I went off on the themes of a text we’re reading. They weren’t wrong.

Truth be told, truth be revealed, I love this time of year.

I love the gatherings of friends, the gathering of families, and the shared revelry. I’m lucky that way, dare I say I’m blessed. For all the chemical imbalances (they’re legion, they’re powerful!) and traumatic memories (they’re legion, they’re powerful) contained within my family, I still love ’em. Enjoy ’em. Feel lucky to have them.

Truth be told, truth be revealed, I think I’m just struggling with what is reflected in these family gatherings as of late.

The age and the rot and the dust in the bones of my family.

There ain’t been a new kid in years. But, oh baby, have there been funerals. I felt it first this past summer when the various strands of the family web gathered in Nova Scotia for my Nana’s funeral. Looking around the kitchen and living room and the dining room and just drinking in the sagging skin. Wearying bones. There wasn’t a pall, per say. But, there certainly wasn’t the fucking vivacity that childhood, or adolescence, or even young adulthood brings to a family gathering.

Why, in fact, I’m heading down to Connecticut tonight for another funeral. My father’s sister passed away, and well, it’s time to don that wedding-funeral-wedding-funeral suit and stare at another depowered meat-case.

Another branch off the family tree. Doesn’t seem like ain’t anymore popping up, but they sure do seem to be dropping. Another subtraction from the number of family members whose surname I bear. The whole thing smacks of closing walls. The whole thing smacks of finality. Ain’t enough to get me to have a kid, it seems. Ain’t enough to get me to have a kid, but it definitely makes me aware of the fact that I haven’t had one.

The age and the rot and the dust in the bones of my family.

I wouldn’t say I’m burdened, but I would say the whole thing is on my mind.

I wouldn’t say I’m tortured, but I would say I’m a bit daunted by the whole thing.

So, uh. Yeah! That’s me! I promise I’m not as down as I sound.

So, uh. Yeah! That’s me. I promise I’m going to have a good Thanksgiving.

I hope you do too.

This right here, down below, this is Monday Morning Commute. I’m about to drop on your ass the various things I’m looking forward to this week. I hope you’ll share your collection of happenings in the comments section.

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