With all the gazillion people out there blogging I used to wonder why in the world would I blog too. Mostly, I've found, that blogging is cathartic. Whatever is going on in my little corner of the world comes spewing out in the form of this blog. I'd like to think that people are interested in what's going on in my life and can even relate to the events I disclose. Maybe you do. Maybe you don't. I suppose if you don't you quickly move on to the next blog.
I think many people can relate to what goes on in my life because, well, it's probably going on in your life too. People get sick. People die. People lose jobs. Kids get married. You knit. You quilt. You sew. You might just admire crafters and wish you were one of us. As much as I'd like to think that I'm unique, I trust that I am not. I might just have a knack for putting it all in writing. You could do it too but I suppose it's easier to just read my blog and nod occasionally in agreement and say 'I can relate to that'. That's perfectly okay.
Today we had an off site luncheon at work. The food was good but there was an odd air about us. Some in the group have moved on to the new project team. One person had already had their last day but joined us. The rest of us, I suspect, just felt out of sorts, knowing our jobs were winding down and our days together were numbered. It's not getting any easier for me. Only 15 work days left. Jeez.