Quite some time ago, in trying to explain why I complain so much, I paraphrased a quote from a former coworker into this comma-laden mess.
A friend at work a few years ago, defending me to someone else, said that, while I complain a lot, it isn’t quite complaining. It’s really just making conversation.
I lost touch with her not long after we stopped working together. Last I saw her was a chance encounter at CVS in Arlington before I moved into DC. I got an email today from a former coworker of ours telling me that she died a few weeks ago from a brain tumor. I’m not sure exactly how old she was, but it wasn’t more than mid-thirties. We weren’t close at work, but friendly. I have her phone number stored in my cell phone, although I don’t think I ever called her. And I maybe had a bit of a crush on her for a while. It’s strange - I probably never would have seen her again anyway, save another chance meeting. So I won’t miss her, exactly, but I think I will miss knowing that there was that chance.