Do not worry gentle reader, I am not about to bore you with the gory details of the past year. This is just an observation.
Even as I sit feeling maudlin, one cannot help but wonder whether all the 'tragedies' in my life would classify as such in a relative world. One of my dear friends once said to me, "Your sorrows are all fictional. Many people have so many more things to cry about than you.". That friend, I have to admit is right. Nevertheless, in the grip of melancholia, one tends to get overwhelmed with such issues.
What is even more frightening is that if one pauses to consider options which may drive this sense out of my mind, I do not see even a set of events which would combine to drive this out.
This leads me to the cold logical conclusion ; "The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in your stars, but yourself".
I don't have a solution to this; rather, am relying on the old adage, "This too shall pass".
The one striking thing about the last year is the number of people I have connected and reconnected with. Easily the year in which I have added the greatest number of friends in my life.
