On Thursday last week I went out to dinner with a good friend of mine that I hadn’t seen all summer. She’s the kind of friend that I can go 2 months without talking to and when we see each other our conversation starts up right where it left off.
That night was no different. Stories began and the words flowed for hours. We were at a Mexican restaurant and the turnover there is usually pretty high. I think I’ve gotten my food within literally 5 minutes of ordering it in past visits. So there were guests coming and going and my friend and I were just laughing and talking and laughing some more.
Now the thing to know about our conversations is that we laugh so hard and so loud that, to anyone other than us, it’s probably obnoxious. Under different circumstances I likely would have cut my laugh off, not wanting to disturb the other people eating. For some unknown reason I get worried about being rude.
But during this dinner, I didn’t care. I had missed this friend so much and was overjoyed to be sharing an evening with her. Rather than forcing down my happiness, I let it fly, laughing with abandon and enjoying myself without reservation.
My husband has told me many times that I worry too much about other people. This is something I don’t necessarily view as a bad thing, but when it interferes with my own personal happiness, I can concede that maybe it’s not such a good thing.