You know things have reached a new low when you forget your Wordpress login.
Hello friends. I’m alive, as it turns out, and have been delinquent. Not a deadbeat dad, but close enough, a blogger who doesn’t keep up. One who doesn’t pay her bills. Her hosting bills, the ones that keep her beloved site up and running on this here information superhighway. I’ve written nothing. Not a haiku, not a witty retort. Efforts at writing success are limited to Gchat and Twitter, forums in which I clearly delight others with my extensive knowledge of hairstyles of the Hills and run of the mill snark. I’m also delinquent in that I’ve overlooked at least four important life dates lately. They’re more than oversights; they’re reflective of complete friend delinquency. It pains me when I do such stupid things. Head, be reintroduced to desk. Thankfully the cats are fed and remain plump, pleasingly so, as does this writer. All carries on but I’m angry with self that such important details could be missed. Unacceptable.
Life has also turned upside down in the past month. Job, health, love. A close friend has had a bevy of health visitors lately, a very unwelcome crew that have demanded the bulk of her time and emotional power. Not one, but two (unrelated) diagnoses, one of which turned out to be a false positive. She’s the big winner, apparently, but trust when I say that she is taxed to a point at which I’d stop showering. And we all know that’s a pretty big statement.
I’m losing my job. And that’s all I will say about that.
I feel like I’m in a snow globe. I shared this with said friend, who believes our globes are filled with water alone. Water would be refreshing, actually, as would a few snowflakes on the tongue. Both are reminders that we’re alive, blood pumping, still participants in the beauty of this world. Instead, it feels like we’re skilled swimmers, trying to get from A to B, but it’s simple syrup all the way. Everyone will be ok, of course, and we’re not alone in all that is happening to us, children starving and all that. Still, I’d give my right arm to be at a point past resolution, where we clink glasses and chuckle about what life once tossed at us.
