I understand what aunts, uncles, grandparents, etc. feel now when the kids finally go home, and I hate it. It’s to empty, to sad, to... I don’t know. It just makes me want to curl up in bed and wait. I don’t know what I’m waiting for exactly, but I’ll wait, and I’ll wait. Maybe I’ll go for a walk, look through pictures, maybe take another nap. Maybe I’ll sit on the porch, rock in front of a finished game of chess from the night before. Maybe go out to eat, smile, remembering that any other food that I would have ordered a week before would have had just lettuce, maybe some buffalo sauce. Maybe I'll sit at home, finally able to watch MY shows. Maybe I’ll hum a tune, grab the slingshot and shoot the targets, or pull out the karaoke and sing the blues. But I guess I’ll just wait, I can’t fast forward so I’m always flashing back. I hate it here in this phlegmatic zone.
So I’ll just wait.