I guess I can’t call it “ennui,” because that term hints at boredom or world-weariness.
Perhaps I’m more of a man without a country (only without Aaron Burr and the politics). I have plenty of kind neighbors and folks to chat with in a general way. I’m rather fond of the few guys I’m working with. Cold ones and Conversation evenings are a village tradition, and not in short supply. Yet, with all this, I’m feeling a little solitary.
Solitary, in a very specific way. I don’t really know anyone that I can hang with and talk to about common interests. No peers exactly, with those very particular similarities that make them peers. I think my set of very specific interests is setting me a little apart. That’s a bit of a problem, since one can’t exactly change what sorts of things one is into. Conversely, one can’t exactly force others to share one’s interests, or force others to be one’s sort of people. Musical Theatre folks? In short supply. Young-ish homesteaders? Not exactly around every corner. Guess I have some work to do. Might have to get out there and become a joiner. Ick.
Well, at least I have the dog.