I was standing in front of a mirror tonight, getting ready for bed, when I saw another grey hair and suddenly a thought struck me: I hadn't spoken with M. in a long while. I couldn't do it right then, because she was in a different time zone and probably asleep, but I imagined talking to her anyway. I imagined I said:
"M., do you remember when we were eighteen and jumping on your bed to Lenny Kravitz' Fly Away?... Can you believe we're about to turn 32? Where did all those years go? When did we grow this old?"
Blink and you've missed it.
I'm not sad or disappointed. I'm just surprised. It feels like it was only yesterday, and today we woke up with husbands and children, jobs (or not) and bills to pay. It was only yesterday we were berating our parents, and today we're living some sort of slow-motion switch-a-roo; time-travelling into the future, one day at a time.
My counselor reckons I'm no longer depressed. I agree. Too busy taking care of the baby, I no longer worry about the meaning of life.
Saturday 3 March 2012
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