Empty Nests, Creeps, & Sharks

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.


  1. 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.

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