Down in the Dumps

I have friends, I swear.

Well, maybe I used to have friends, sort of, but little by little they seem to be slipping away. One has pretty bad arthritis in her back that has had a domino effect on the rest of her body. It’s difficult for her to get around, so we don’t see each other so much anymore. One is moving back to California to be with her kids and grandkids. And Sandy, well, Sandy went and died on me in January, and that hasn’t quite sunk in yet.

Today I drove past Sandy’s on my way to say goodbye to the friend who’s moving to California, and I saw her husband working on their house. I guess it’s just his house now. I didn’t stop in to see Sandy enough when I had the opportunity, and I couldn’t stop today to see her husband because I was on schedule to see somebody else.

I suppose that’s the kind of attitude that got me here in the first place.

I sent a small (very small) gift card to an old grade school friend for her birthday today. She’s turning 50. (When did that happen?) The card said something like, “Have a Panera lunch on me. If you made it this far, you deserve it.”

I don’t know. I’ve felt so dumpy this week. Is it because I’ll be 50 myself in a few months? I don’t think so. At least, it doesn’t feel like it. Maybe because I’ll be 50 without a whole lot of professional accomplishments to show for it? I guess that would turn it into a midlife crisis, and this doesn’t feel crisis-ish just yet. Although some glimmer of hope on the professional side would work wonders on my mood.

Maybe a little more concentration on the professional side then. More drawing. More painting. More illustrating the kinds of books that make me giggle.

It’s a proven fact you can’t grow old as long as you’re giggling.