I was alone as usual. I cooked myself a nice dinner. I had added up my thanks a day or so before. And yes, I was a little bored. I have never really liked Thanksgiving. I don’t much like turkey anyway. The dry white meat requires savage lashings of filling and gravy to make it edible. The overcooked vegetables were the epitome of boredom.
And it was all family all the time. Now that’s boredom. They never “got” me. I couldn’t talk about much, and when I had a point of view they disagreed with, I was told I was being stupid. And they weren’t interested in anything. So I didn’t talk. At home I could always eat and get away and do something. But in my teens my folks took to having Thanksgiving dinner with friends at their place. All football, no escape.
So being alone on Thanksgiving is not so bad.