Village life

So I went down to the second floor ten minutes ago to pick up a fax, and who should be coming out of the Admin office but inannajones, looking calmly professional as she was shown around on her first afternoon here.

Finding that the paths of people I know cross mine at multiple points has always been reassuring to me, rather than disconcerting. A web of familiarity puts me much more at ease than the thought that I must move among strangers.

(Friends I haven't met yet. I know. But I can't help it. It's that limp-gutted Inner Child again. She goes eeek.)

And then again, part of me wishes for the adventure of picking up and planting myself in unfamiliar territory, remaking myself in my chosen image, starting with a clean slate.

Ireland being what it is, though, no matter where I went I'd soon be surrounded by a little cadre of second cousins' ex-girlfriends, people who went to primary school with my boss, former pupils of my old piano teacher...

The world is a small place.