Radio Silence

Meg just about made me cry today with a comment left on my last post that said, in part:

I have been checking in quite often for updates to see how you are doing. If possible, please update so I can (hopefully) stop worrying about you.

And sometimes I wonder why I blog? That's why I blog. Knowing there are people out there who care makes me pull my head out of my butt every now and again, even if just for a couple of seconds, long enough to say...something. What can I say? What is there to say?

Well, I can say this: The good news is that I am no longer stressing for unknown reasons about little things, about silly things, about other people's problems.

Unfortunately, that's because I am now stressing even more about big, real things: Job things, money things, the way in which one seemingly small disaster can take down the entire house of cards. Which really sucks, if you're the one living in that house of cards, watching them crumple around you.

I'm pretty sure it's karma. You wanna stress? karma asked me, smirking disdainfully in my direction. I'll give you something to stress about.

That karma's a bitch, I tell you. And she's a smart bitch. Because not only do I now have Very Real things to stress about, but they're all in the Do Not Speak Of This On Your Blog realm. And so...radio silence. At least on this subject. For now. Until the happier days have arrived. Which, I am sure, they will.

Until then, I have this to steady me: You guys care. And that makes more of a difference than you might think. Enough of a difference that I don't even care how much that just sounded like Sally Field.