It’s my birthday. I’ve had friends of all sorts talk to me today, from people I talk to every day, to people fulfilling their social obligation to send birthday greetings, to people who were happy for the chance to talk to me. I think I value the third group the most, today.
To be honest, it’s not enough. I’m still sad. I miss… not my exes, exactly, but the set of people I could really talk to. which is close to the set of people I’ve dated, in both the set-theoretic and the metric senses, but not quite it. And, unfortunately, pretty much entirely contained in the set of people I don’t talk to anymore.
I’m trying not to mope too much about it. As much as I feel like my life will never change, it’ll change pretty seriously soon enough. I’ll have a new job, in a new city, with a new community, all of which should be radically different than the ones I have now, and all of which have a reputation for being pretty nice, even for people like me. Hell, maybe I’ll even manage to have a new me.
There’s the blessing we say every year. Next Year in Jerusalem! And they do say these days that San Francisco is supposed to be the Jerusalem of nerds. It’s where Neil Armstrong descended out of Heaven as the Right Hand of God. So I guess I’ll see if it lives up to it’s promise.
Whichever way it goes, next year I’ll probably look back at that and laugh, but whether it’ll be because I’m laughing at how naive I was, or because I’m cheerful, remains to be seen.