I have been back in San Antonio for nearly two months. In addition to some difficulties in my personal life, which have more or less settled now into the broader background of discontent, I have yet to get a handle on how this place works. Reverse Culture Shock, I think it's called. Food, transportation, language, just the aesthetics, everything. It is familiar, I grew up here, but I find myself looking at the familiar things and feeling neither comforted nor put off. I am blank. When some event or other ought to spur me to action, I see little point. Perhaps a depression, a feeling that I am trapped. Most frustrating so far is my lack of desire to break out of this.
And a ghost haunts me here.
It's my hope that, simply by putting it down on electronic paper and sending it out into the universe, I will begin a change in my attitude.
I watched the Spurs play in Indiana last night. After two tough losses in a row, they seemed to drag their asses, get to their spots just a little late, wouldn't take open shots, tried to lose all through the game, and in the final eight minutes or so were able to kind of pull it together just enough to squeak out with the "w." It's hard to feel great about a win like that, I'd imagine, but they've stopped the bleeding at least. Perhaps a recovery under such circumstances can help a team or a person regain their bearings.
This is what I'm hoping.
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