You Don't Know What You've Got Till It's Gone
I’ve turned into one of those people that I despise. The type of people who become too busy to just talk and too busy to make plans for an evening out. Last week I became enflamed at a close friend because she had been ‘too busy for me’. It felt as if she were blowing me off and that we would never be able to stay friends; it wasn’t until this past weekend when I realized that I am guilty of the same. Yes, I can be a misanthrope at times, but I’ve always been one to make plans with friends and always able to keep them. Over the past month, I’ve blown off two visitors who were in DC anyway, but I had told that I would call and see them over the weekend and just now, I couldn’t have a 45 second conversation with JB, because I had been running around. The task for her was simple enough, find a place to go for drinks this evening. Yet, I feel like I had just been told that I need to find a cure for cancer in the next half an hour. In my head for the past week, I’ve just been saying ‘I don’t know. Figure it out your own fucking self’. I would love to just say that out loud. I don’t want to answer questions, I don’t want to figure out how to make something happen, I don’t want to find a place to go have drinks. Why can’t YOU fucking do it? I’ve been walking around with a constant ‘to do’ list in my head, which includes, but is not limited to: getting a new social security card, registering my car, getting my gym membership taken care of, doing Christmas shopping, the possibility of grocery shopping (my favorite past time) and watering the office plants. Most of those things haven’t been done and my I’ve killed my boss’ orchids.
It’s times like this that I become nostalgic. Exactly a year ago, everything seemed so complicated; get my visa, get a physical, move out of my apartment, get my hair done (an important task), complete my finals, write a few papers. And now I’m dealing with dead orchids people and remembering to fill out my insurance claim form and you know, work.
Do you ever feel like you’ll spontaneously combust from it all?
And FYI, in case you had missed the memo or hadn’t been warned, I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Ready? There is not one fun thing about being an adult. I would pay my parents to tell me what to do. Want me to take a nap? Of course I will. Want me to ground me and not allow me out of the house after 3 PM? Please do. You see that I have a cold and cramps from hell? Keep me home.
P.S. I haven’t read my blog all day or yours either. So tell me, how am I doing? How are things with you? I fucking suck.