Good People

I grew up in a small town and graduated with about thirty kids in my class.  Most of us spending every year together since we were five.  How could you not make friends?  (And of course, how could you not make frenemies?)  Then I went to college where I met some of the most wonderful people in the world.  College was perfect, there was certainly more than 35 people to choose from, and you could find people that were more like you.  And even better, you could find people who complimented you.  I made good friends in college.  Following college, I worked abroad and as isolating as it could be, I always had a couple of good friends there with me to rely on.  I spent the next four years in graduate school (it's better not to ask why it took so long.)  In grad school you spend most of your waking hours doing (in my case) math.  The people in the program with you, well, they love math too, and they love you too because they have to, you're just like them. 
Then something happens after you leave school.   You move to start a new job.  And you leave your friends. I've spent the last three years at my job waiting to meet good people.  I keep waiting to make those friendships I've made in the past.  The other day it occurred to me.  What am I waiting for?  Those friendships that I made years ago and developed are still there.  Perhaps we don't talk all the time like we used to.  Perhaps we don't go to happy hour (at the Hoot Owl-for Blues Night, Rock and Roll-for strange drinks, RJs-for wings (or TRuggs), or Old Chicagos-for afternoon beers that make Analysis so much better, or the numerous others.)  But if I saw you, we would.  In the meantime without my knowing, I've met good people and continue to meet them.  It's just less obvious.  Sometimes, if we just take time, good things happen.