The first week of Empty Nest Syndrome was everything I expected it to be and more. And by that, I mean that I had all the expected symptoms of missing B, but because Jason gotta Jason, I also threw in a few days of malaise, regret, self-loathing, ennui, self-flagellation (not the good kind), and learning to talk in the third person as I come to grips with now being what can only be described as virtually useless to society. I’m not sure why I needed my son to start college to point out the obvious again, but here we are.
The week wasn’t all sad naps and thousand-yard stares; I made it to the gym a couple times, did a fruitless photo creep around Meridian Park, completed all my duties around the Cul De Sack Shack, had a much-needed session with the O.G. Mindbender, and then finally at the end of the week I got to the Hall’s Lake Preserve for a humid and sweaty hike/photo creep in the woods.
Friday’s creep was OK, but I knew I had other stuff to get done and had already gotten a late start, so I crept just under 3 miles and then headed home to walk another two miles while mowing the grass.
I’m hoping to let go of some of the self-induced existential depressive bullshit in the coming week, start some proper planning for what’s left of the rest of my life, and try to realize I am a lucky man who doesn’t need any sort of validation from a society that I most often try to avoid and distance myself from.
Then again, maybe I’ll just go for more walks in the woods and keep listening to American Sharks’ 2013 self-titled debut album at disturbingly high volumes1.
Later.
- American Sharks are so amazing! Imagine combining the best of The Sword, Red Fang, Danzig, The Stooges, and Motörhead and putting it in a sub-3-minute song that will make you want to drive your car into a field of Satanic beef cattle while under the influence of alcohol and other substances of varying legality based on your state of residence.