Last winter was my first in New York.
Lonely is a bad state of mind to be in, and the bleak New York winters do [negative] wonders for loneliness. I was invited to spend the Christmas holiday — which historically for my family and me had meant Chinese food and a movie in suburban Detroit — in the Hamptons. Having never before been, I jumped at the opportunity. Peaceful it was not. Less than a full day after arriving, our would-be lovely holiday was cut short due to an impending blizzard.
I’ve since returned to my cousin’s home in Amagansett, but had planned to spend Christmas alone this year. Alone but not lonely.
The office was closed Friday. I spent the day cleaning, doing laundry, and eating. By nightfall, boredom — note: not loneliness — set in. Before bed, my cousin had text messaged me. Cue: loneliness.
I spent most of Saturday sleeping off my cold, and around 3 p.m., I had made the executive decision to take a 6:40 Jitney to Amagansett.
I arrived and imbibed — crisp white wine before bed.
This Christmas holiday has beyond made up for its predecessor. A lovely drive and walk about Montauk Point, a movie in East Hampton, and English-style breakfast for supper.
Neither alone, nor lonely.