Call it the axiom that never seems to fail.
I should be out in the fantastic June weather on this gorgeous Sunday afternoon, atop the enormous deck of a friend in Kensington Market.
Instead, I’m indoors, as I’ve been all weekend, trying to recover from some mysterious stomach bug – not the flu – that I’ve had since last week.
In addition to that, it’s looking like the trip to Spain for four has disintegrated into a solo trip (unless I magically get sick again by then, too. Heaven forbid).
One of my friends dropped out long ago, due to finances. Another dropped out of sight, period. I’m chalking it up to a series of changes in her job, living arrangements and life as of late. But an e-mail or phone call would be nice.
And yesterday evening, the last buddy pulled out due to a family illness. That’s sad to hear, but understandable.
It probably wasn’t meant to be. But damn if it isn’t downright poopy.
I realize that this happens to everyone at some point or another. But isn’t it the weirdest thing, when it does happen to you, that you feel as if life is going as it should for everyone else? Selfish, I know. But still.
I’m sure the universe will unfold as it should. But for now, as i look out the window and look at the breeze passing through the pine tree next door, I can’t help but think: