Today was an absolutely marvelous day for April, sunny and 80 degrees. Here is one point I must disagree with Morrissey on. A sunny, warm day is never dreaded by me. I love the sun and warmth.
Of course one thing is for certain, neither Keats, Yeats or Wilde are on my side because of my ghastly writing skills but that's another story.
I have been suffering from some sort of cold/allergy/sinus infection affliction, the last several days. I suppose I shouldn't have gone to the bar after my ice hockey game but how could I pass up interacting with my teammates, friends and bar patrons. Plus, there is nothing as satisfying as an ice cold glass of beer after hockey. Naturally, one glass would be fine but when it turns into 15, 16, 17, no wonder I am ill. Morrissey said it so aptly; "I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour but heaven knows I'm miserable now.
As I was sitting around commiserating over my plight, I came to the conclusion, I think I maybe becoming a misanthrope. I really don't care much to interact with people and consciously decide to avoid interaction. I try to stay away from my neighbors and never talk to strangers. ("I never talk to my neighbor, I'd rather not get involved") Now, there are people I know and like and enjoy contact with. Outside of those few folks, I would rather be alone. I feel much more comfortable in my own company. Is that odd? I wonder is it normal? Maybe I'm losing my grip on sanity.
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