The funeral last Friday was very well attended. I still don't know what happened to the guy, but I heard that my rugby teammate came home and found him dead. Here was a guy who was ten years older than me, who had everything going for him, and out of nowhere he just died for no apparent reason. I've never worried much about death not being "fair" or questioned why God would take an individual like some people do. Having an important life or lots of friends doesn't really stack up much against the apparent randomness of mortality. I did, however think about what my funeral would look like. It struck me that having spread myself all over many places but never really settling anywhere like most people might mean occasions in different places that would include my various circles of friends.
So thinking of mortality has continued. I had a long chat with Mitzi about my gloom. She was more blunt than most people have been, and I think it might be getting to be time for that. Advice was to get back to therapy, to consider anti-depressants, and to get bothered about getting better. It was an ideal conversation to go along with a post Nepalese food glow and a couple of hours spent taunting her cat with a laser pointer. There were plenty of things said that I know, but that just don't stir me up. I suspect they will though.
It was also a weekend of footy finals, and I spent the whole of Sunday in the Collaroy Castle as it was exceptionally rainy and surprisingly cold. After three days of being busy, footy, drinks with ex-girlfriends, Sunday was a quiet day.
On Monday I turned 34. I had a swim, I visited Minou, I got home well after midnight. It was possibly the most isolated birthday of my life. That doesn't actually bother me. I spent last Christmas Day alone, barely speaking to a single human being all day. It has, however, been appropriate for how I spent the past year.
TW: A delayed birthday workout was based on my age. 34 minutes to do as many pushups as I could. Total:1,286.