Okay, so, it's Monday and I've managed, yet again, to be late getting to Pete's. Today I would have arrived somewhere around forty minutes late - not that the amount of time matters when Late is Late, right? Right. The thing is, "yet again" is specifically referring to the past three times in the past week or two when I was given a specific time to be at Adam's place to pick him up.
Every time I think I'll make it and every time I'm wrong. I want to say that there are odd circumstances around each time I've been late, and there are, but I should have just forced myself awake without getting enough sleep and gotten ready with thirty minutes to spare and shown up early. That's the way it ˆshouldˆ be.
I've proven that I'm completely unreliable when it comes to arriving somewhere on time.
And I've managed to really piss off one of my best friends. I have no idea how long it will take for this situation to dissolve into water under the bridge if it ever will. I've said I'm sorry, and I am, but it's not enough. ∫I have to change.∫ I don't know when the next opportunity will come for me to prove that I'm trying to change and I have no idea if I'll demonstrate what is in my heart and mind to do without failing but... I hope it's not too long. Time just keeps on running away and there's precious little of it.
I seem to be an expert at wasting it.
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I spent last night talking to one of my oldest internet friends for a few hours. But we weren't talking online, it was on the phone. Her intense anxiety which prevents her from falling asleep when she's home alone was sort of a perfect excuse for us to catch up since the only time I seem to find for myself lately is late at night.
I seem to find ways to use the same word in two forms in one sentence repeatedly. Hrm.
Anyway, I've spent the past three nights having conversations with her until about 6 AM. Probably not the wisest move when I have places to be at specific times the next day each of those days. Still, it was good catching up. She's a good friend.
Pete asked me if talking to her was worth being late and I didn't think that one situation should be weighed against another.
I think I'm self-destructing even more than I was before. I know I'm damaging the foundations of friendship with people I've known most of my life. My only friends left.
I'm miserable to begin with and I'm hurting people I care about which makes me more miserable.
To quote Joan Cusack from Grosse Pointe Blank: "This is not good."
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I'm spending a lot of time examining myself and trying to rebuild motivation to accomplish my goals which are, and this has been a favorite word of mine lately, nebulous at best. To put it simply, I don't know what I'm doing. I can't figure out my next step.
At least I've resolved my terrifying bank issues. Maybe I'll write about that next...
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