I’m in Victoria on business.
It’s such a strange feeling. Other than my kids, nobody is really thinking about—or caring—where I am.
Someone wrote a letter to a blog that I read saying that as their life progressed, they felt more and more like a ghost. They attributed this to a lack of social ties.
I share their sense of things.
I’m sitting here in silence, in the humidity, charging my devices and doing nothing in particular. Autopilot, I think they call it.
It’s a way of living in modernity.
When I get back, I will pick up where I left off. Nothing will change. Other than my kids, nobody will really notice that I was gone.
I need to change some things up. I don’t want my kids to be in that position.
All I need to do is approach people and ask them to be “in my life.” When they worriedly demur, I will say: “But think of the children!”
(Yes, I used that word right. Also, I spelled it right. Yes, that is black humor. Not sure why it’s objectionable, but I had a bit of the same sense writing this. But now it’s out.)