Thanksgiving morning.

Today is a special, festive day, no doubt. In 3 hours or so, the family will be gathered at my folk’s house, and the smell of turkey and dressing and pumpkin pies and gravy will fill every room. The low clamor of multiple conversations will amble until food is brought to the large tables, guests are seated, a prayer is said, and turkey and trimmings make their way to every plate. We will eat and chat and refill and eat until we are sated and happy, and then sleep will come to visit us. A TV will prattle in the living room as broadcast personalities analyze plays of a football game, and around the house, bodies will rest in nearly every room. Thanksgiving is like that. I am thankful, and surfacing throughout the day, I will think of things I am grateful for, which may or (probably) may not spur me to action, texting or emailing someone of significance to me.

The morning, though, is a challenge- like most other holiday mornings.

Without children driving my attention today, like on any other day, holidays usually mean a) I don’t have to go to work on a given day, b) I will wake up and not know what to do with myself or my time, and c) I am aware of being alone.

Chances are, if I was less self-involved, I would plan my mornings better on these days so that I’d be spending these open hours with loved ones, friends and family alike. If I was less involved, I would have a plan for these days I am given, and I would invest my time in just thinking more and doing more with (and for) others.

But, I am self-absorbed. Whether it’s out of egomania or depravity, I know it is true. And I fret hours away trying to figure out what to do with myself to help myself be less like myself.

It’s a trying state to live in.

Oh well. Happy Thanksgiving, people. Happy Thanksgiving, blog. Happy Thanksgiving, Twix bar. Happy Thanksgiving, interweb.