I’ve reconnected on Facebook with folks I used to know when I was young and interesting. They all have cool lives and husbands and wives and kids, some. I was feeling a little blue about it. As I am prone to do. Until one of them put up pictures of us from back then and I was cute! I know me, having lived with me all my life, so I know I didn’t know I was cute, in fact, probably thought I was too ugly. I sweated being ugly a lot when I was young, hoping people would just find me charming instead.
But here’s my point. I was cute and couldn’t see it.
I get the blues because I have a wonderful life, a cool life myself, and lose sight of it.
I was thinking about going to the park yesterday and how, for a cold day, we ran into a lot of people. Not a lot, but considering that we usually meet either no one or just one other person, six was a lot. Five of them were men. And the woman was with a man.
I was cheated out of a lot of things in life because I didn’t believe I could do them by myself. Until I came by Mrs. Wigglebottom, going to the park was one of those things.
I don’t really know how the two parts of my post fit together. I do wonder if I’ve missed out on stuff. I also wonder if people look at my life and wonder if they’re missing out.
And now I’m embarrassed by how trite that is. But I don’t care.