So much has happened since I last posted here. So much has happened before that too. Friends got married, others got engaged, yet others are moving from wifedom to motherhood, while some are discovering the joy of falling in love. Now, that is not what I want to write about. I really don't know what I should be writing about. Do I write about how easily we change? How it is so easy to forget those little things that meant a great deal to us once upon a time? How life seems to have a plan of its own when it comes to deciding how often friends keep in touch? Or do I write about what they say about the best laid plans? I don't really know. I just needed to write. And not make sense. I guess I'm doing a good job of that.
Something someone said to me last night got me thinking. I have been keeping to myself mostly because my sorry excuse for a life is getting sorrier by the moment. Friends seem to be finding better things to do with their lives, like meet new people, fall in love, change jobs, priorities and places, and I seem to have found a wonderful remedy to being out of the loop- my work. I do everything under the sun; train teachers, teach little kids, put books together, draw (I know some people are cringing now, but I'm getting better), order books for libraries, cook, well, the list goes on. All I keep from doing is, spend time with friends who are far away. Even when I blame myself for it, I wonder why these same people who accuse me of shutting myself away, do not take the initiative to call or message, or even reply to messages beyond the prefunctory hello. So, I have decided, the next time someone tells me that I am curling up into a ball inside my shell, I'm going to ask the person to check the last time he/ she took time away from whatever is keeping him/ her busy to spend a few minutes listening to how bad my day was, and if you are looking for chirpy, sunshiny me, you might need to spend a little more time than how much it takes to type a "Hey, hw r u"