Lucky Star

Full moon again tomorrow night and let me tell you I knows it! Oh the dreams, the dreams, the dreams! I just want to go to bed and stay there until it’s over. My dreams are much more interesting than my real life. I’ve been in Toronto all week in my sleep. Revisiting some memories. Inventing brand new scenarios. Running them through. Everyone and anyone I ever knew and had a thought about.

This time of year is hard for the single person. It’s the one time when you can’t pretend that you’re not really alone. I’ve had a case of the blues. I’m trying to get over it, but the moon and the dreams and this terrible weather weighing in on my joints doesn’t help. Most of the time I have no regrets about my life’s choices because how can I regret anything that brought me to my current place, because life is pretty fantastic now. But sometimes, especially during the holidays when I know that at the end of the day I have nothing and nobody only myself, I wonder if I handled things the best I could have, if I should have behaved differently, if I should have said something else, if I should have let someone in. No worries, it won’t last long. Tis the season and all that.

Last night I went to dinner theatre with my boss and his wife. For political reasons we were seated at different tables. So it was kind of like going alone. I had an extra ticket, could have taken someone, did call two friends to see if they could come on such short notice, but not surprisingly couldn’t pull anything together so late in the game. But I was struck by my lack of options. I know a lot of people. I have a lot of acquaintances. I have a lot of family. But I have very few close friends. I guess it’s always been this way. I guess I’m just a loner. Still, at this time of year, in the vulnerability of the full moon, it seems to make me particularly sad. When I came home I was bothered into the wee hours, restless. And then when I finally drifted off it was into Toronto dreams that I didn’t want to end.

I feel like I’m at an awkward age or something. Where I either have to commit to a full blown cougar fling with some young stud or else start hanging around with the Freedom 55 set. Guys my age are still in their starter marriages or else they’re anxious to get a family started with a much younger woman or heaven help them they’re still skanking around the clubs, they don’t seem to be interested in girls my age. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe they’re just not interested in me. I mean, I’d never know. My track record for recognizing when someone is interested in me is not even sucky, but totally non-existent.

The great thing about going to dinner theatre, alone or with friends, is that I’m always inspired to work on my own play. Last night I couldn’t get Duff and Merrin out of my head and as I lay in bed tossing and turning she developed a new character trait that is quite hilarious, or has the potential for hilarity. And this new trait led to a new scene between her and Duff. Nothing written yet on those new thoughts, but definitely working it out.

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