I had lunch with my pal from the food bank recently. We caught up on our volunteer job gossip, traded mystery novels, shot the shite. I read your busysmartypants, he said, munching his sandwich. I didn't understand what the heck was going on!
A co-worker said to me once, off-handedly, You pretty much do exactly what you want to do.
This is all okay by me. This little corner of the internet is my island. I have visitors on occasion but the words and the music and the pictures and the videos--those are all for me. This is my life now. Was my life then. Who am I when no one I know is around?
Tin House posted an Anne Lamott quote the other day: "How alive are you willing to be?" It struck me as kin to the George Saunders quotation at the top of this page. Then, then I re-read it and it felt so smug, so I found the full passage and lo here is Ms. Lamott in all her righteous rage. Have you asked yourself lately, how alive am I willing to be?
x-posted with busysmartypants