The temperature was somewhere in the mid 60s today, which is chilly for Southern California. Combined with the Christmas carols and the mall displays, it’s actually starting to feel like December is coming.

Living in the Midwest radically changed my expectations for winter. I now understand why transplants to So Cal complain about there not being any weather. I could see how you would miss that blanket of fluffy white snow, and that preternatural quiet when the snowflakes are falling.

But I’m a So Cal boy to the core, and say what you will, there are differences in the seasons here. They are certainly exquisitely subtle, but if you’ve lived here long enough, you can tell when autumn starts, when winter begins, when spring finally dawns.

So I would say that today is the first winter-like day thus far. It doesn’t mean that it’ll stay that way. For all I know, it might turn out to be 80°F this weekend, but I won’t be complaining.

Yesterday I was overcome with this deep anguish about being alone. I can’t really explain it. It was mostly a visceral thing. For the most part, I’m content with how my life is going. I recognize that the notion of meeting someone and maybe falling in love is at best a remote concept at this point in time, and I’ve accepted the real possibility that the chances will recede farther and farther as more time passes.

These things happen. Not everyone finds a companion on this road of life.

Today I woke up back to my normal (I use that term quite loosely) self.

Being in love would be nice, but there’s a time and a place for everything, that it isn’t here or now.