I'm sure part of it has to do with some draining interactions this past week, of lonely seniors and those on the road to sobriety whose perceptions are profoundly clouded. You're judgmental, you really don't like me and just pretend to. And if I didn't like someone, I sure as heck wouldn't bother trying to meet up with them because I make time for the people I love. Also, evidently others don't see it that way, because evidently I'm just so chill that it's okay to cancel plans for bullshit reasons and then mumble 'sorry' and pass the buck to you when you call them on said bullshit. I'm cool with forgiveness, but I also believe in making clear that I don't expect much, and basic common courtesy of keeping your word and not blaming me for your bad behavior is pretty basic.
But I played tunes on the air this weekend, played requested Sleep and Opeth and The Sword and other duderific riffy tunes for the Saturday night masses. Got back in touch with an old homie who I haven't seen in almost a year thanks to his work schedule and seasonal ennui.
I forget the ease of our friendship, the way that we don't have to do much but just be together, and we spent a Sunday afternoon walking down to the lake, drinking smoothies on the jetty, eating ice cream on the pier and people-watching before taking the long way back to my neighborhood. It felt like summer, us in t-shirts, everyone being friendly to us in a part of town where interracial tends to bring more smiles than dirty looks.
I came home and cleaned off the balcony, talked on the phone with one of the neighbors and revelled in the warm breezes coming through my windows. It's cold again today but for everything I lose, I always seem to gain something else and that's strange and beautiful.