Growing up, I’d see my friends every day. In school there would be friends and we’d play after school. Again at college where we’d “hang out”. Every day I’d be with my friends. Then, when I was old enough to get a job, I would be with coworkers, some of which then turned into friends. But I would still see my friend-friends every week. We’d go out on the weekends, or catch a movie a Wednesday night. Or just hang.  Sometimes I lived with a friend and then I’d get to see her every day.

Now, I rarely see my friends anymore. Here in the middle of the 30’s, it’s all about logistics. All of my friends are participating – with me –  in this insane and endless choreography of de-worming the cat, packing gym clothes, changing diapers, picking stuff up or off the floor (ten thousand fucking times a day), doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, dropping kids off and picking kids up while juggling a career and a marriage.

I love my life. But FUCK: I also miss my 20’s where all I was picking up was an occasional hot pizza and – on a good night – an occasional hot guy. And where I’d see my friends every day. Now, most times there is weeks between. Often months. Even years.

And I miss them. I miss spending time with people who GET me, who laugh at my lame jokes, know my history and my story. I need the comfort and understanding only people in the same situation can provide – particularly when it comes to the challenges we face at this juncture of our lives as mothers, wives, daughters and bitches.


Dear friends,

Everyone is always so damn busy. But life is short. So I want you all to chill the fuck out and come play with me. I miss you.

Your cats are just going to have to deworm themselves.



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2 Responses to Thoughts on Friendship

  1. Wabbit says:

    Dear Cinda,
    I’m saving pennies in a jar and plotting a raid on the kids piggy banks (I’ll pay it back when I get a job?). When the bank gets finished counting coins I’ll surely have the airfare. Of course, they may not finish counting until fall…but good things come to those who wait, right?

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