It’s day three of Home Alone: The Dave McLean Edition, and all’s going reasonably well. I haven’t bought a single meal so far, the cats’ litter boxes haven’t become ziggurats of poop, and the house doesn’t yet reek of stale sweat and/or Wild Turkey. Yet. I have to admit it’s incredibly weird not having Sarah around. It’s hard to describe, but everything feels ever so slightly off . I’ll be watching TV and I’ll suddenly think, “Holy crap! I forgot to…” but then I realize there’s nothing I’ve forgotten. Or this morning, stepping out of the shower, I had this strange sensation it wasn’t Friday at all, that I’d somehow missed Friday . Again—weird half-second of alarm, then I was fine. I’m not nuts, I’m not obsessing about this constantly; I just have these strange occasional flashes. We’ve been apart before, obviously, and longer than the two-and-a-half days that have passed so far, but usually I’m terribly busy when this happens. I’ve been in Toronto for work, but my days and ni...