There it was on Facebook.
A post by a college acquaintance for sunglasses I could happily purchase for under $35. We had attended Seton Hill, Greensburg, Pennsylvania in the 1960s.
That "suggestion" was in juxtaposition to the special placement my article on retail had received on a media outlet.
What shot through my mind was: Why the hell is someone who really doesn't know me that well pestering me with sunglasses she considers I should purchase. Explicitly I had told her previously that I had neither the money nor the interest in sunglasses at the present time. Recently I had pulled up my roots on the East Coast and relocated my communications boutique, a difficult rescue dog and myself to Tucson, Arizona. Meanwhile my reputation as a writer was on an upward trajectory.
The tipping point wasn't rational, of course. But a tipping point it was. I would take down my Facebook page. And I would let those college acquaintances know why.
Others had also been generous in their advice. All the while I wanted to shout: Hey, I'm dancing as fast as I can.
Through email I told two I wanted to continue the relationship. Fat chance that will happen. They probably have already decided to dump me. As for the sunglasses babe, may she never darken my doorway again - in any medium: Print, digital, audio, video or in person.
And maybe that was exactly what I wanted: Those vestiges from the past to be out of my present. For three years we had been chummy. As a wise woman on a bus in Paris taught me to frame things: Those relationships had, at the time, served me well. During those 36 months I had rebuilt my communications business and figured out how to downsize my fixed expenses by relocating.
Things don't tip over. We set that process in motion, don't we.