Yesterday I was scolded by my parents – at age 32, well almost, yes – because I was crying over my friend’s disease.
The thing is I have no friend where I live, and being home alone overthinking all day is no good for me. My parents are right about the fact that crying won’t help my friend and proposed me to help them with the easiest part of their work at their workplace (it’s difficult to explain, but they can ask anybody’s help as a volunteer where they work).
Today they were too busy to show me the work, but I could chat with their colleagues, which seems to kick start my social life again.
admit time flew faster today and I felt less overwhelmed by the weight of the bad news I received one week ago. Of course I do think about my friend. But I try to be hopeful.