Yes this is the period in which some people who have known you feel compelled to give a sign of life offering holiday wishes. In this way they obtain two results. First, their number is smaller each time, giving you a quantitative measure of your lunar existence. Second, these phone calls (or postcards) are shallower and shallower, in your perception of them, and in their real content. Absolutely no content except the general compulsion to fete the holiday (holy?), letting you know that they remember you because, running the address book, they found your name. When you finally were settled in your bubble, these disturbances from defunct situations are cocktail molotovs thrown at you.
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Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.
--Samuel Beckett
22 Mar 2008, 5:27 pm
