A recluse walks into a sports bar and everyone standing near the door yells, “Karen!” Don’t hold your breath – there’s no punch line. It’s the truth or close enough. Suddenly the anxiety I had felt all day fell away. I was back in the arms of friends.

A year and half ago, I left my job at Barnes & Noble to become a full-time playwright. (I’ll talk about that later, maybe.) The day I walked out the door of the book store, I walked away from the most incredible group of people I had ever known; a hugely generous group wherein each individual is a person apart from the norm. I’ve not been back to the store since. I think I feared that if I saw them again, I would regret my choice to leave and that each time I left, I’d feel as bereft as I had eighteen months ago.

But it was time. I want to write. I need to write. A tad faster than I have been, let me just say. And Time doesn’t grow on trees, you know. Forget the awful feeling that most of the trees in the primordial wood behind my house are younger than I. Besides, I’m a recluse. I’m happy in my own company.

Second Hermit: “Hello, are you a hermit by any chance?”

Frank the Hermit: “Yes that’s right. Are you a hermit?”

Second Hermitz: “Yes, I certainly am.”

Frank the Hermit: “Well I never. What are you getting away from?”

Second Hermit: “Oh, the usual—people, chat, gossip, you know.”

Frank the Hermit: “Oh, I certainly do—it was the same with me. I mean there comes a time when you realize there’s no good frittering your life away in idleness and trivial chit-chat. Where’s your cave?”

— Monty Python’s Flying Circus

Still, there was R.D., on whose behalf we had gathered, retiring from… what?—a half century of bookselling, maybe an entire century. And Joanne just returned from a trip to 6 of the 12 most dangerous destinations in the world. Liz sat next to me, looking beautiful, even after a year in Purgatory. I’d say Hell, but there are those Syrians. I’ll just add, I’m lucky not to be Liz—not yet, anyway. Stuck in the middle with me sat Bob, my buddy who laughs at my jokes and makes me feel smart —I’d forgotten how comfortable I feel in his company—I don’t know how he does it—just by being Bob, I guess. Next in place is Annette who has taken as much local injustice as she can swallow and may be holding the gavel soon. She’s younger than the trees in my backyard, so she just might be a future governor. Word to the wise: be respectful. And Amy and Christina, across from me, so happy with each other. And Betsy and Sarah and Martha and Martha and back to R.D., may he, may they all live long and prosper.

It’s so hard to keep this smile from my face, Losing control, yeah, I’m all over the place.
-Stealers Wheel – Stuck in the Middle with You

Hermits make friends with great difficulty. I hope these friends are equally difficult to lose.