M is a new Facebook friend of mine. According to legend, her co-worker saw a story about me, thought M would get a kick out of it, and so she sent it M's direction. And it appears that the friend was right, enough so that M sent me a Facebook friend request and accepted my invitation to meet tonight. So we met, had dinner and drinks, were joined at times by various friends, B and S, coming and going throughout the evening. It was a good time, a bit of exposure to Texas culture with a hint of Minnesota goodness thrown into the mix, as both M and B had previously lived in the Land of 10,000 Lakes.
I liked that M seemed very excited, both about my project and perhaps about life in general. That's probably a good thing. Having a little zest for life never hurt anybody. Her compliments of me, though, came early and often, and eventually made me feel a bit uncomfortable. Yeah, I think what I'm working on is pretty neat, unique-ish, and somewhat important. If it weren't, I wouldn't be doing it. But it's not as if I'm out here curing diseases. I'm simply giving and receiving friendship.
So at some point, praise heaped upon me feels a bit silly and maybe even misplaced since, even if this journey were the coolest thing in the world, I'd give a good amount of the credit for its success to M and my other Facebook friends. For without them, it would be a very different experience, one involving a large amount of talking to myself and taking lonely selphies. So yeah, while I enjoy some praise, any more than that usually feels just a pinch undeserved. Usually. Tonight though, marks the 23rd consecutive night that I'll sleep without my wife next to me. Plus, once again, my hotel room smells like piss. So screw it. For now, I want praise, and I want a lot of it.