I was working from home the other day when I got a call from my old friend, J. She and I worked together several jobs ago, for about a year.
J's one of a very small number of special friends I have. She's a work friend, and a good one, who knows all about me.
Yes, all about me. We had been working together several months when I distinctly got the sense that we were close enough that I could share the icing parts of my cake life with her. One day we went out for lunch, and had a nice long talk about all sorts of interesting things.
She was utterly unperturbed, even delighted to hear about the various exotic aspects of my non-work life.
The job we both worked at was the sort of soul-eating, tiresome, pointless stuff that can drain the very life from your veins. My friendship with J. went a long way toward making our office a place I looked forward to visiting. We were in one another's corner, fast friends.
I ended up leaving that project, and then about a year or so later, leaving that company altogether.
But every so often, J. and I check in with one another. This particular day was just that sort of thing. She called me up, and we caught up, talking about our lives, changes since we'd last spoken, new work, new side projects, our personal lives, the whole deal. I told her how refreshing it was to have her, a good friend who I haven't seen naked, who I can talk with about my life which includes lovely people who I often do see naked. There's something great about having a friend who lives in the Clark Kent world I also occupy, while being open to hearing about my um, "Kryptonian" exploits with my superpowered friends.
We talked for over 2 hours, and they just flew by. I'm grateful for her friendship.