It was that weird transition period just before the new year. You know the one where it’s after Christmas, and you’re just getting done celebrating with family and friends, but like, there’s nothing going on before New Year’s Eve? It’s always been weird for me. As though the year is desperately trying to hang on just before we look forward to doing everything all over again for another twelve months.
I walked out towards the balcony of my apartment and lit up a smoke. I know, I know. It’s bad for me. But truth be told, at this moment, I couldn’t care less. I’m tired. Very tired.
So unbelievably tired.
I took another drag, and watched as the smoke left my mouth and dissipated in the calm snow. It was well past midnight, and the night was still. No cars were driving by, no people on the street, nothing. It was just me, the snow, and the soft orange luminance emanating from the streetlight. I held out my right hand and watched the snowflakes land gently on my palm and quickly melt, leaving behind a tiny puddle. I smiled weakly, shook off the excess water, and rested my arms upon the railing
Tomorrow, I’ll be at work. I’ll ask Josh about the latest football game score. Lynn will complain about her husband coming home drunk again. Janice will ramble on about how cute her kids are, and Marcus will yell at us for not getting work done on time.
As I put out my smoke and turned around to head inside, I stopped just short of the entrance. I looked up and watched the snow flutter down around me. I must have been there for what felt like hours, taking in the surroundings of the rare night.
Tomorrow, I’ll crack a few jokes. They’ll appreciate my work and give me compliments. They’ll invite me out for drinks after work. We’ll spend our whole lunch break deciding where to go eat, only to settle on the burger joint on the corner again. We’ll think about plans for New Year’s Eve, only to not follow through with them.
Tomorrow, I’ll still be tired.