Growing up bites
Friday I came home with a mind full of ideas that I wanted to write about that night or over the weekend. Before I could put a syllable down I found an urgent phone message from my mother. I called. She has cancer. I didn’t write anything.
This, of course is one of the things that sucks most about growing up. Loved ones get old and weak and go away. Most of my relatives of the Parent, aunts, and uncles generation are now gone. Because I’m one of the youngest of the next generation, I’ve also started to lose cousins at a regular pace. I hate it. Even if my mother turns out to be fine, I resent this undermining of one of the most important pillars of my existence.
When I decided to blog, I consciously chose not to write an introspective personal journal. Frankly, the internal workings of Johnness are not that interesting. I’m not sure how another life crisis will affect my blogging. I might vanish for days on end when I’m too busy or depressed to write. I might sublimate my frustration and anger by bashing on administration policies (or lack thereof). In other words, nothing will change, I just thought you had a right to know why nothing was changing.