I'm sulking because I'm not going to RT but the reason I'm sulking has little to do with drinks or cover models or sessions to learn about craft.*** No, my sulk is sillier and more selfish than that.
I'm in a snit because the party goes on with out me. No one is wearing black armbands because Kate's not there. My name shouldn't come up except with maybe one of those "where is she now?" things.
Those sorts of snits are just useless. I used to say to my family "have fun, but not too much fun." when they went out without me. I wanted to be essential to any one's good time. I didn't want to miss a thing, but more than that I wanted to be missed. (I stopped saying that as soon as I figured out that one of my kids felt sort of guilty having a good time without me. Whoops.)
But really, I can't be blamed for feeling too dispensable, because the internet has turned us all into snowflakes. Tender lil snowflakes that come fast and go faster. Someone melts from view but you barely notice because another fascinating snowflake slides down to replace it.
I thought about this as I ran this morning (more like trotted. 3 miles in 35 minutes, but yes, I'm doing it. Go away, weight.) . . . You spend months at a site, commenting, reading and if you disappear, never to comment again, it's as if you never existed. All that time and effort thinking and communicating vanishes as if your words and input never existed.
I got all glum when I realized that Real life is like that too. A physical presence means the hole you leave behind is a little larger and takes a little longer to fill but not nearly as long as I once thought.
And then I got an email about the ongoing troubles of a marriage that's crumbling, and we can all see that long, painful breakup ahead. And hey, it goes both ways on the web. You can walk away from that site without a backward glance and no one will sue you for back-rent or show up in the middle of the night, sobbing because you've abandoned them.
And then I got distracted by a funny video. So really, real life and the internet can wait until I finish forwarding the video to a couple hundred my close, personal friends to remind them I exist.
***although come to think of it, some of why I'm sulking does have to do with that stuff. I mean at first it's odd but eventually rooms full of screaming, partying women is a good time. dammit.