Comfort Zone

We all have a favorite chair or sofa that we allow ourselves to sink deeply into. We may nap there. We may be perfectly at peace there, holed up with a good book. Or maybe there’s a sacred pair of sweats. Put those on and the rest of the world rolls off of you.

Well that, folks, is the way I feel about the nearest and dearest of my friends. It doesn’t matter if it’s been five days, five months or five years since last I saw them. (The only thing that ever seems to change is the size of the kids.) So there I was last night, nestled ever so deeply into that emotional armchair, clad in my virtual sweat pants.

Life is complicated and sometimes gets downright difficult. But this? This is the very definition of easy. Simplicity personified.

A little over three and a half hours never passed so quickly. It might as well have been 10 minutes. The calendar may have read 2009, but there we were, channeling 1979, 1983, 1990. We made time stop in its tracks, even if only for a little while. All these years later, I'm still awestruck by the connections that one stupid building (that the mother forced me to go to for four years) has made in my life. How? Some people go their whole lives without these bonds.

I pity them.

The rain, which never seems to end lately, hammered Pearl as I headed home from CD’s last night, but I didn’t care. My mind was energized. My heart revived. Give me your damndest, Mother Nature. Go ahead.

I’ve got friends.