Hibernating

Yesterday, I had a short encounter with my elderly neighbour. She's very short and uses a Russian scarf to cover her hair. I don't think she can see very well, because when she talks to me, she doesn't seem to know whether to look at my eyes or at my hands. I've tried to concentrate and see if I detect a whiff of alcohol on her breath, but I don't. She told me her back was giving her a hard time and she had just come from the doctor's. When I asked her whether everything was okay, she looked absolutely terrified and told me "Well.. you know.. the doctor... it's never nice to go to the doctor" and I was sure she was going to cry. She fumbled with my coat-sleeve and wished me a nice day and I stayed alone in the elevator staring at my empty expression on the mirror and I wanted to scream, press the stop button, sound the alarm, whatever, to break the silence in that small ugly space.

At the school hall last week, a sleepy-looking girl I've chatted with only once before asked me how I was doing. This happens quite rarely, so I was a bit taken aback and stuttered something very vague and uncertain about having felt better. She froze in her steps, looked deep into my eyes, and said "Yes..... yes, I think I know what you mean... that's exactly how I feel, too" and disappeared down the staircase. This morning, I was talking with someone who's having a hard time right now, and at the end, when I pushed back my chair and got up, she smiled and said "I already feel much better after talking to you". Sometimes, I wonder about how little people actually talk to each other, especially at times when talking is the only thing that can make you feel better.

We are six billion people here, and even though some of us hide it pretty well, everyone has feelings, broken hearts, bad days, life-changing crises, empty bank accounts, whatever - so let's stop thinking we don't have anyone to talk to. Whether it's your teacher, some random guy who sat opposite your seat in the metro or the expressionless person at the cashier, everybody wants somebody to listen to their worries and give them some solution, even if it's something as unoriginal as "well, time helps". Everybody understands how you feel. Especially up here at this time of year, when we are all walking with wet snow in our hair, our heads still in bed and our feelings in a heavy knot at the bottom of our stomach.

I'm just asking myself: how long are we going to be stuck in this November blues, weather and attitude? What happened to December and January? Did I sleep through them? I've become so disoriented in time that today I actually promised someone at work that I'd take care of something before Christmas, only to receive a dry reply: "Yes, well Christmas is quite far off, isn't it". I started laughing at my own stupidity, but only got worried glances as a reply.

By the way, there's been something that feels like hair stuck at the back of my throat the whole time I've been writing this. How's that for a mood-killer. I've drunk so much water to make it go away I'll probably spend the night in the bathroom. I've tried rinsing and even gargling (I don't know how to gargle but I made a quick pathetic attempt and it sounded more or less adequate). I've stood in front of the mirror with my jaw on the floor to visually pinpoint where it is. It's like someone stuck a piece of duct tape there. It's not going away. Great. I'll probably never fall asleep.