Is that a thing?
I mentioned at the end of the last post that it was a hard one to remember. It was a hard one to write, and it sent me down a mental rabbit hole that preoccupied me for days with things I really can’t talk about because they’d make my identity really easy to find.
And suddenly it’s Sunday and I missed my Thursday post for the first time ever and what the heck am I gonna write about today?! This week has been uneventful and eventful all at once.
My parents are continuing the moving process, having found a lovely apartment building that they have applied for and put down a deposit on. Years ago, I ran into an old friend just after moving here from Toronto, who had moved up here as well a few months prior. She gave me her street address and phone number, and unfortunately I wrote them down in my work notebook which I lost, so I have lost touch with her. But the name of the street is slightly odd, so I never forgot it.
The building my parents like is on the same street.
This friend had very high standards so I figured if she lived in that area, it must be good, and it was my Google search and recommendation that lead them to check this place out.
Lo and behold, this building is basically the only thing on that street. She had to have lived, and maybe still does, in the very same building.
My dad and I both used to work with her, in fact she got my dad a job after we all left that company. She surfaced up here right after I moved here, now 7 years later she might be my parents’ new neighbour after they make the same big trek. Kind of a spooky coincidence, right? I can’t wait to find out if she is still living there!
I’m always fascinated by the way things come back around.
There are other things surrounding their move, and assorted recent events in general, that have roots in my past. It’s so funny how something that happens seemingly for no reason, can suddenly come home to roost years later and make you go, “huh. If that had never taken place, this would probably not be possible.” Especially when the past event was something terrible, one of those “why me?” moments. And then years and years later, you can go, “Ohhh. That’s why!”
Actually, that has been a theme in my life over and over and over. And now I’m thinking of several better stories I can tell. Good!
I guess you can write about writer’s block, after all.