the happiest public restroom stall in Boston
As reported yesterday, I had to go to Boston to do vaguely professional-type things. It was a nice trip and everything went well. More on that in a minute, but I wanted to start out by saying that, if you need cheering up, go to the first stall in the women's restroom at the Alewife T Station's main entrance (Cambridge Park side, not Russell Street
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But - as you spin time on our rock - you see friends lose their way, talented colleagues passed over (while others succeed undeservedly), beloved family members get horrible diseases and waste away...and you start to mistrust the kindness of the universe and the ability of your fortitude to sustain you. This doesn't even take into consideration the constant litany of terrible happenings brought to you by the media. I think we're all being conditioned to see the bad, to find the flaws (as proof of our superiority, in part).
Also, the closer you are to the starting line, the longer it seems you have to straighten things out if they veer off-course. Further along, it seems like every decision is life or death, hero or humiliation, God or dog. Stakes seem raised 'cause time is short.
Here are a couple of thoughts:
Do you trust your professor? (No need to answer - you wouldn't fear his bad opinion if you didn't.) Trust in him. He has taken, and continues to take, the time to be your friend and to guide you. He believes you worth the investment. (He's obviously very perceptive.)
Do you trust us? How could you - you don't even know us. But what about those of us that you do know? Do they seem the kind to suffer fools? They don't to me. Lucky for you, you're just a human trying to muddle through, and no sort of fool at all.
For what it's worth, I believe in you. I look forward to your posts, whether they're fic, art, or life. You employ words in a way I always enjoy, and I look forward to reading your novel one day and telling people that I knew you (in the middle of) when.
♥
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