This is why I've been blue lately

It's Greg Maddux' fault.

Here's a photo of him in Autumn, 1993. He's at home in Las Vegas, on the phone with Tom Glavine, his friend/Braves teammate/only real competition for the Cy Young award. Fortunately for the reporters assembled in what appears to be his kitchen, he soon received official notification that he did, indeed, win his second consecutive Cy Young. That's his very pregnant wife, Kathy, in the doorway. Their first daughter, Amanda Paige, was born in a few weeks.

I don't know the man -- except in my dreams -- but I bet this was the apex of his life. He would have other winning seasons and play for 15 more years. He would enhance his fortune and his reputation. He and Kathy would go on to have a son, too. But this seems to be the moment when it was all good and would never be this good again.

An old coworker of mine resurfaced. We worked together in 1991. She had just been promoted from receptionist to junior art director. And she actually admired me. I was 33 and the company Golden Girl. I was in love with a smart and very nice-looking man. I wore a size 6 and could really rock a pair of heels.

Today she is an EVP at a PR firm. She is on her second husband (this one is an author) and just toured Cairo.

This week I got a new toilet.

I do not begrudge her all her success. She worked very hard and overcame a good deal to get where she is.

Instead, I mourn who I was.

I don't want to get together with her because I can't bear to see the disappointment in her face when she sees me again after all these years.

OK, maybe it doesn't make sense to blame Greg Maddux. After all, I bet he has dealt with this malaise, as well.