Friday, October 27, 2006

The Beatles knew their shit...

John and Paul knew what they were talking about when they wrote the song "With a Little Help from My Friends."

I was not doing anything in particular when my phone rang. It was Kirsten. She was calling because she needed to vent. She was having one of those weeks where nothing in particular went wrong, but not much seemed to be going right either. She'd been sick all week, had a bad day and come home from work and had a cry, and once she came to her senses, she called me. We talked for a couple of hours, she learned of my recent plight, I learned about her bad week, we both talked at length about our disdain for sports broadcasters, we laughed, we talked about our families, and when all was said and done, we were both better off having talked to the other.

I'm always taken by surprise by these kinds of phone calls. I didn't expect the call, but as it turns out I felt immensely better when it was over. And Kirsten summed it up well by saying that talking to me was just what she needed because she got a chance to vent, and knew that I would say exactly what I meant in reply to her woes. (It's nice to have a friend that just gets you like that.)

I don't have anything else to report to you. I'm sure I've probably bored the hell out of you with this, but let me assure you that it was still the best damn part of my week.

Be good my lovelies.

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