Call Me "Galactic Center"

Something kinda weird has struck me. I'm a little amazed and annoyed that someone else's life could possibly go on when I'm not around. When did I stop being the center of the universe?

I came to this realization when I suddenly stopped and asked myself why I so often make a point of going to the Pittsburgh Post Gazette's Arts & Entertainment page for news about what's going on in Pittsburgh's theater scene. The critical part of me wondered if perhaps I wasn't looking for proof that people there haven't forgotten me. Truth is, though, that they have - and of course they would... I don't live there anymore! I don't know why it should bug me - because the practical part of me realizes that, yes indeed, their lives continue apace without me there.

Of course, then again, I might just be looking to catch up on my friends' lives, and I should just stop my occasionally amusing obsessive analysis of every minute fucking thought that passes through my thick skull.

But then, that would be too easy.