pretend i had an internet connection and posted this last thursday

I woke up this morning wondering if it was actually raining – it isn’t. But the weight in the clouds and the chill in the wind are deceiving. A nice treat from the powers that be on this fourth Thursday in November.

It’s still not the same.

The same as what?

(Forgive the externalization of what should be an internal monologue.

Please.)

Thanksgiving is never the same. Was never the same. Always is never the same. So what’s not the same? It is the same. It’s as the same as it always never has been.

What’s different this year—different from any other fourth Thursday of November that I’ve experienced—is that it’s not a holiday. No one is thankful. For nothing. No one is thankful for nothing. Dear god. I’m not going to be teaching Englich* much longer if I start talking like that.

I worked this morning[when I should have been sleeping because it’s a holiday where I’m a citizen]. But I should clarify, because these things are relative. When I say “I worked,” I mean I got up and, half asleep, found my way to the army’s headquarters where I have class. I arrived about 10 minutes late, because the students are prohibited (by their better judgement) from showing up less than 15 minutes late. So I settled in, made myself a coffee, and broke open my latest lost cause, La Insoportable Levedad de Ser. I don’t mind it. At about half past, my squarest student scuttled in, set himself down in the chair next to me, issued his greetings, collected a practice test to do for homework, and left.

Excuse me please. I was reading.

At about 8:45, Cristian. Long time no see!! Where have you been? What have you been up to? Care for some coffee?

And we so it went—and so it always goes, just not usually on the fourth Thursday in November.

And later, I think I’ll re-mend a bed that breaks quite often. And stroke a feisty cat that sometimes draws my affection, and sometimes draws my blood. Then I’ll try cook something that won’t turn out the way it would if Dad were making it. And then I’ll go bed with “same as it always isn’t” memories of Thanksgiving 2008.