Les Bonnes Choses

I had a very enjoyable grownup weekend, and the contagion that had infiltrated my body was good enough to wait until I had dropped Rebecca off at the airport on Sunday noon before it began to suck the very life out of me. Lacking the energy to do anything much, and in consideration of both the health of my coworkers, and of vanity for not wanting to appear as some kind of revenant in public, I stayed in all day yesterday. I didn't even venture to the door step to fetch the mail. It wasn't until around 10 pm last night that I realized that, with nobody to talk to and not much to say, I hadn't spoken a single word in over 24 hours. I reviewed my day from a third-person perspective, and thought it reminiscent of the first half of Castaway, in which it was Tom Hanks' character's lack of dialogue that really set the atmosphere for the movie.

You know how sometimes you'll hear, "Oh, he just likes to talk to hear the sound of his own voice". I bet that on some level that's partly true of everyone, because silence gets kind of weird after awhile.