One of my friends has a friend policy.  It states:  "Let no worlds collide."

Meaning, when she has a party, if it's not for the group of her friends with whom I am connected, I'm not invited.  She doesn't want work to collide with friendship to collide with another friendship.  She doesn't want us networking, connecting, developing relationships and because we are connected by her, talking about her, which, of course, we would.

So we, her friend planets, do not collide.  We stay in our own solar systems, doing what we related planets will do, spinning away.

With this policy, she has managed, I think, to avoid some of the issues I've had in my life, a universe where worlds collide like pool balls.  I've managed to flagrantly break this policy at all times, pulling people from a variety of sources into small groups, always surprised by the black hole that develops because of this collision.

Whoops, I think, vowing to never do such a stupid thing again.  And then I forget.

So when suddenly folks at my workplace know things I try to keep at home, it is my fault, not having stuck by the policy.  Mostly, I'm not a shy person but there are some things that just shouldn't be bandied about at work.  It is a place of work, not deep dark secrets.  Or even pale yellow secrets. 

I, of course, manage to embarrass myself at work.  I wrote earlier about an email I managed to send to my entire division, one about things best only said to one person, in private.  Yes, I am at fault for that, too.  At least the email was only about me and my issues, not a gossipy email, laden with judgment. 

So I am going to work harder on the no worlds colliding policy.  Perhaps this will entail an excising of entire solar systems.  I'll get back to you when the star map has been completed.

Jessica