To the Lost
It was a really, really terrible week. There’s no way around that. From dealing with minor technological annoyances to coping with the deaths of friends and loved ones (and ending up on crutches by the end), we ran the full gamut of emotions and difficult doesn’t quite sum it up. I can’t say whether B and I just naturally cope with stress and tragedy in the same way or whether it’s just a matter of having been together for so long that we’ve adapted, but we both turned predictably to the same sources of comfort in food, drink, and company.
Emotional eating and drinking are neither novel nor unique concepts, and certainly not ideas to be promoted, but what I watched unfold between us this week didn’t involve irrational excess, but rather the seeking out of normalcy and comfort. This week we visited El Gaucho, The Innkeeper, and The Wurst Place… all places I haven’t written about before, all places worth noting. This really isn’t the week to tell you about them, though.
What is important is they all served a very important purpose. They provided an escape from the chaos of life, offered important opportunities for us to connect… to commiserate, to wallow, and even to laugh at the absurdity of everything unfolding around us.
In the end, sometimes that’s the best we can do, isn’t it?