A Moment of Silence

I have neglected my blog this week. Normally when I go days without posting, I give notice. I give reasons. I prepare myself, fellow bloggers, and those who happen to stumble upon this site (these days, usually folks who are googling the "agony of defeat ski jumper"), for the brief respite.

But not this time. I just abandoned my blog, without cause or justification.

In my "real" life, so many friends battle tremendous problems and obstacles, making me understand that my issues are so very, very minor in comparison. It's the same sensation you get after gazing at the stars on a particularly clear night and the feeling of overwhelming smallness and insignificance that overtakes you. I like to think of this as Mother Nature's way of kicking you in the groin and screaming, "Get a life. Who do you think you are anyway?"

That's how I'm feeling these days. I've got it good. I really do. I have a close group of friends--the family I chose for myself. I've got my career, my house, my health. I never lack for something interesting to do and a story to tell. I am single; but I'm not alone. And while I whine about available men, or the lack thereof, we all know that most of my whining is done for the social enjoyment of it more then anything. How else could I complain about my vagina turning into the Great Dustbowl (it hasn't, by the way)? In what other forum could I discuss whether a man is "sheetworthy"--worthy of my $900 sheets (which of course begs the question, what sort of person goes and buys $900 sheets just for the sake of owning them and the story to tell? But I digress...)

So here I am-- ranting and raving about nothing particular, while others I love deal with grave and life altering issues. My dear friend Faith battles cancer and, barring a miracle from a recently approved drug, won't make it another year. My friend Kelly lost her job. Mary Beth found out her daughter is using cocaine. Nader might be deported. And with the seriousness of my friend's dramas, suddenly, I don't feel like dishing about my last girls' night out or latest boy issues. In fact, I don't feel like writing at all. "Get a life. Who do you think you are anyway?" I keep coming back to the smallness and insignificance of it all.

Don't mistake this for depression. I've got nothing at the present moment to be unhappy about. Rather, take it as a sign of respect-- a moment of silence for everyone, everyday, who suffers while the world selfishy and obliviously goes on.