I got to talk with Lynne tonight. A Real Conversation, our first in I don’t know how long. It’s morning there in Shanghai and she’s moved on to April, while here in Durham it’s the last night of March and it’s feeling like spring and the air is smelling like the crabapple blossoms in my front yard.
It’s hard to find time to talk with her, what with the time difference and our busy schedules and all. But tonight I found her home and we chatted for a little while. It wasn’t long enough.
Yesterday Beth called me while I was still at work. It was after 3; the school day was over. And she was away last week, so that our conversations had been limited to two short ones. I missed her. But grades were due at 4 p.m. yesterday and I Just Couldn’t Talk.
Emily called while I was on my way home from school. Our communication of late has been limited to wall-messages on Facebook and the fleeting conversations one can have between pieces at orchestra rehearsal. But I had just retrieved my children from after-school care. I wanted– and needed– to talk with them.
And when 9 p.m. rolled around and the homework was done and the kitchen cleaned up; the children read to and tucked in bed; when Chopin’s Preludes were on the stereo and my hot tea was in my mug; when for the first time all day I had a little time to myself, I was Just Too Tired to call my friends.
Sad, isn’t it? These friends so dear to me, whom I love and miss, and I am Just Too Tired to talk.
And also I had about thirty pages of reading to do for class today. But that’s another story.