Dying Alone

I got some horrible news today when I opened my work email account. An old coworker of mine from San Francisco died in her apartment. She had been in there for days before anybody found her. She lived alone, had few friends, her family was all out of town, and she hadn't been employed for about a year. She was only 33 years old. I don't know why she died, and I can't get a hold of anybody on the west coast yet. She was a good, kind, intelligent person. I just made her sound sort of like a loner, but she was a well-adjusted person. She just preferred to be by herself. As a single female who lives alone, this sort of story can be really scary. What if I died? I don't have family in Chicago, and would my friends really worry if they didn't hear from me for a few days? Would they make someone break down my door and see if I was in there? Would I be rotting away for days before anyone bothered to see if I'm alive? The whole story really upsets me.

I remember talking interior design all the time with Tanya, that and reality tv shows. She was one of my Big Brother friends, and I'd always run to her office the day after an episode and dissect the people's strategies. Tanya was bad with computers, and I'd help her understand how to use basic programs. We talked fashion, and she'd lend me magazines when I got bored at work. She was one of the people who made my day go by a little faster, who I looked forward to seeing each morning. And now I'm too far away to get back for the funeral, and am left contemplating my own solitary existence. At least I have dozens of friends here, unlike her lifestyle.

Tanya, you will be greatly missed.