A strange afternoon. It started out perfectly normal, with a highly enjoyable tea and catch-up with a friend. Then I met my friend I. in town, and as we chatted the afternoon took a plunge - and I do mean a plunge. Suddenly it was a grim conversation about the miseries of life, and the miseries of my life specifically. And since up until it took this turn I hadn't been feeling that my life had any miseries, I was somewhat taken aback.
I'm not sure what brought it on. I suspect it may be connected to the fact that I received a rejection letter for a job in this morning's post, and even though I figured I would get rejected, and even though I assumed the rejection was as the result of overqualification rather than underqualification, it's always frustrating and disappointing to get turned down. Perhaps this bubbled under for five hours and then came out inopportunely.
Now, however, I'm sitting at my desk writing this, and there's a milonga in the clubroom of my college just across the courtyard. I'll be going in a few minutes, but at this moment I'm looking out of the window into the clubroom, where I can see the people dancing. I hear no music, of course, so it's like watching figures in a restaurant, or some sort of private ritual. Not like spying at all, but like a scientific observation. Nice, in a funny way. That is, their pleasure, although I am at one remove from it, gives me pleasure, too. Curious.