Last night we had drinks with friends. This morning I had coffee with a friend before taking her to the airport and, since she’s in our department, we talked about some of the asinine things other colleagues have said to us lately. Then as I drove home alone, I sang along to the radio and danced in my seat. A middle-aged man caught my eye and laughed (kindly). I hope he couldn’t tell it was “Sexual Healing” on the radio.
I laughed, a lot, in the past 24 hours. I even laughed at the socially inept idiots in our department. To read this blog, you might think that I don’t laugh. You might think that I’m not handling this as well as I could be.
I wonder what it would mean though if I appeared to be taking what’s happened to my family “well.” I might think I was sick. I might worry about what I might do to myself if I couldn’t even express my most miserable thoughts on an anonymous blog.