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so the guy who sits next to me at work, who btw makes me seem like miss mary sunshine, the morose sob(my best friend at work so i should know, and he'd agree wholeheartedly with the assessment), is walking out talking, again, about how he has to get a life.

 

to me.

 

he says this constantly.

 

to me.

 

ok, he's less than a year from retirement. he's married. he has 5 cats and 2 corgis. yeah, i know, but that's lively even if it's insane. he volunteers with dozens of different charities. belongs to clubs. goes out to dinner 5 nights a week, and lunch every day off and half the days on. goes out to movies, and parties, and crap like that. has hobbies, many. photography takes him traveling all over the damned countryside looking for trillium and butterfly sanctuaries and waterfalls and god knows what. and so on.

 

and he has the chutzpah to tell me he has no life.

 

me.

 

seriously.

 

but at least i know, knowing him, and knowing me, that even if i had as much life as that... i'd still feel like i had no life.

 

but... seriously.

 

that much life would kill me.

Edited by cindy

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