Lunch

In writing to an old friend, I began thinking about the fact that I currently have no real friends here in Rochester. Coworkers. Acquaintances. But not friends.

Now part of that is a function of the fact that I am kind of reserved by nature. A loner. My dream of heaven is a cottage by the sea with just me. And my dog. Jesus would stop by for coffee. Otherwise, sea and sand and sun, circling birds, the dog sitting at my feet, and me.

Heaven.

In addition, I've been raising three daughters and taking care of elderly parents and a grandmother.

I've also had the excuse of working so much. At one point, I was working seven days a week to pay the bills. I've been known to have one full time and three part time jobs at the same time.

But that's lame.

Besides, man is a social animal, and I am open to charges of being antisocial.

So I called an acquaintance and invited him to lunch. It was a start. I'll try to meet up with another acquaintance next week.

You never know.