I spent the day with my two oldest friends yesterday.
Not so unusual you might think, but explaining that they live in the town I work in everyday, and that I haven't actually seen them for three months might clarify why it was a significant day.
I'm sure the shared despair at the day's football results helped, but we had a great time picking up where we left off three months ago.
As I walked from their house to the train station I mulled over all the things which had conspired to ensure that the days I hadn't seen them became months. Many of them were good things, some not so good.
But I realised that I don't fight hard enough against the modern disease of efficiency and having a full diary. My failure to do this means I can end up distancing myself from the very people who I care most about in the world.
I said sorry to Damon and Phil for being a rubbish friend yesterday. There are some others I need to say the same thing to, so I think I need to make some phone calls and send some letters this week.
Even if I can't beat our obsession for being busy overnight, I can endeavour to take a mini stand everyday and ensure that rather then letting them be drowned out by the noise of the world, I steal time for those I love.
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