I got some tough news today, and they're not kidding when they say the first stage is denial. As soon as it becomes real, I'll be pretty upset--like in the cartoons when the kid is crying, but all your see are droplets of water six inches off her face. But right now, I'm still in slack-jaw stunned mode.
No worries, it's not anything drastic (health issues, etc.), just some news that's surprising and sad, but also good in other lights. (Sorry, it's under wraps, so must remain hush-hush. But since I just found out, and I've got 56 minutes left to slice for the day, this is the topic du jour... or du the last couple hours, anyway.)
It's also got me thinking about how tenuous our connections are. I've been in Maine for 5 1/2 years, and still my connections here are hardly permanent. I have a great job and a great church and wonderful friends, but how many variables would need to change to make that untrue? If I lost my job, if God pulled me from my church, if friends moved? And then where am I? No man is an island, but sometimes this girl feels like she's a piece of archipelago, unsure if she's drifting toward or away.
Apologies for the melancholia tonight--will give further news when I can.
To spin things around, slice elsewhere, and otherwise end on a happy note, a bit of amusing text conversation between myself and my good friend Esther tonight, regarding our mutual and complete love of the 1992 adaptation of The Last of the Mohicans (I rewatched it yesterday, she did today.)
E: "What are you looking at?" "I'm looking at you, miss." Nobody speaks like that anymore... Sigh.
C: UGHHHH. When I watched that yesterday, I just yelled, 'GOOD LINE. That's a good line.' Somebody tell my [future] husband. Use that one. Winner.
E: I'll pass it along to him. Maybe he'll even wear the loincloth.