Nights Like This

On nights like this, only the dogs keep me company.

I watch "Peggy Sue Got Married" on instant Netflix because nothing else looks good, and give myself heartburn eating Doritos.

On nights like this, I become infuriated with every revved engine and squealed tire from the parking lot across the street where there are 10-30 hoodlums at any point of the night, you know, "hanging out."

I get extremely nostalgic and put myself through the pain of looking at all my photos from happy times with friends and family, then lament over the distance between us.  I remember that some of them are alone a lot, too, and get even madder that we are so far apart.

I get really angry with the small town I live in, where nothing is open late.  Even when I know I'm too tired to do anything anyway.  I just feel like I should be doing something.

On nights like this, I make half-hearted attempts at everything I do, so I can say, "I was being productive!" without feeling like it was a lie.

I curse money, because there's never enough of it so I can travel everywhere I want.

I furiously lint-roll the furniture to get the dog hair off and consider unpacking the rest of the boxes, but do the dishes instead.

I know I should value the time I have to "get things done," but on nights like this, I am just unsatisfied with nearly every experience.

And on nights like this, I know I'm being ridiculous.