Part of me thinks that we’re too old for this. Four of us having managed to converge in one place at one time. Sleeping arrangements have one of us on the sofa, one on a futon, one on the dining room floor, one in the spare bedroom. We’re not good at being quiet and terrible at going to bed at a reasonable hour.
Still, during those years up North. No really, UP NORTH! We spent years together 175 miles from the Arctic Circle. Still during those years up North, we often found ourselves three to a futon, four on the ground, two to the bed, two more on the ground, and occasionally someone in the bathtub. Crashed out far too late after ridiculous conversation or in depth discussion or that time we had to watch that terrible film for class that they tell me I finally just fast forwarded through–on VHS. That it was VHS should tell you a bit about why I think we might be too old for crashing at a three in the morning on a friend’s floor.
The last time we gathered, two of us quietly admitted that we were unemployed. You know, like people with advanced degrees who couldn’t get a job, or people with advanced degrees who were between gigs, or people with advanced degrees who just, just, just….
This time though we’re more settled. All of us are on the job market, but we’re also all working. We didn’t expect to be facing our forties just short of the end of a nasty recession. I, and may more of us, can see the millennials as beacons of hope. They keep going where I feel stalled. They see equality, where I see difficulty. They see, and I do not.