I Seem To Recognize Your Face...

When you're woken up at 4:30 am by the pain in your throat, you know you're pretty sick. Such was my morning. Fortunately, I have programmed the school's sick call line into my cell phone, which, by reason of mad texting during the end of last night's Sox game (WOOHOO!!) was conveniently on my bedside table. Eventually, I got up, made an appointment with the doctor and reluctantly left my house.

I look terrible today. Obviously. I'm sick. So, of course, sitting in the doctor's waiting room was someone I went to high school with, who I haven't seen in probably 15 years. And of course, we recognize each other. He was always really attractive when we were young, and he still is, although somewhat "soft" around the edges these days (aren't we all?). We had a pleasant conversation, as pleasant as I could be feeling like someone had ripped my throat out and made me gargle glass. Sent off with a prescription, I'm back on the couch, under a blanket, cup of tea at hand, trying to determine if work is on the docket tomorrow.

There's no point to this story, really, other than the small observation of how time softens many things, memories, bodies, resentments. Wouldn't you agree?