Limbo

Last night I met a friend in Union Square. We were going to a rock show at McCaren Pool in Williamsburg. He was still dressed for work.

“I forgot to think about my lack of rock attire this morning,” he said as we approached the venue. He was wearing a dress shirt and tie.

He was self-conscious, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. Yes the crowd consisted mainly of hipsters in street clothes. But it was dark and we were outside. There were a few other people who looked as though they too had come straight from office jobs.

He was in limbo, my friend, in a state of mind resting halfway between the serious and fun parts of the day.

Limbo is the most uncomfortable state of all. Just like on the dance floor. Not so natural.

Take the first part of this week. My head was transitioning out of laid-back, no alarm summer state into getting up early and thinking about work school year one. Unsettled and antsy.

But when I got up this morning and headed off to the subway I felt, for the first time in days, a little more settled. There were some boring meetings in the a.m. and then another in the p.m. But then we were done at 3.

Not so bad, I thought as I walked home. And just like that my limbo state of mind started to dissipate.

Two months of freedom are over for another ten.

But then again so is the limbo.