I’m on my way to work. It has been a strange Saturday in some undefinable way that I don’t quite like. For some weeks now life has seemed so entirely comfortable and familiar. Today it feels as though a strange and vaguely forbidding sensibility creeps inward at the edges of reality.
My wife can feel it, too, I think. She says it’s stress about the coming semester, and I think she’s right. For a long time we have had a fairly well-established routine and things to look forward to in the very near future—first living together and then Poland and then getting a dog and an apartment and then visiting Salt Lake City and getting married and then our first Christmas together. Now with the end of the semester the well-established routine has given way to entirely undefined schedules and at the same time the only thing to work toward in the immediate future is our graduate exam on the first of March, which lacks the lighthearted sheen of our previous benchmarks.
I think we are about to encounter the “early year malaise” that strikes so often during January and February.
Meantime, yes, I am going to work in an empty office on the Saturday before the New Year. Then tomorrow I’ll be working at home on the Sunday before the new year.