Continuing Education

What a crappy weekend. And the holiday just meant it lasted that much longer.

First off, I got completely slammed at work on Friday, which is not a big deal since I was expecting it. The upsetting part was that everyone else on the floor went home early. Most of my co-workers were out the door by 4:00, and I was stuck at my desk until 7:00. With no lunch. I did sneak out at one point to smoke a cigarette, and I think I took a bathroom break around 2:30. That should hold me, right?

I had every intention of hitting a drive through before going to Sudsy's for the poetry reading, but I ended up running errands for Roger Mexico, who was doubled over with a kidney stone. OUCH! Sick friends always take precedence over a Burger King extra value meal. Of course, that meant he couldn't go to the reading, but I was less concerned with his presence at the show and more concerned about his health. And at that point, I was so stressed out from work and all that had gone on that week that I wasn't too psyched about reading. He insisted that he would be fine, though, and shooed me off to the show.

We were supposed to start reading at 9:00, but of course Sudsy's was running on rock-n-roll time, which translated to 11:00. By that point, Guildenstern had already left for work, so Diamond Doug had to fill in as our emcee. The show went well, I suppose. I was so out of my head by that point that I barely remember what I said. I think I plugged The Laramie Project, the intern show at Playhouse that Roger Mexico did the sound design for, but all I remember was stumbling over my own words, being proud of myself that I didn't burst into tears when I read "Last Sunday," and being told by a poetry heckler that I was full of shit. Lovely.

Everyone else did well, the bands rocked, and I did my best to enjoy myself. Hopefully I won't be as scatterbrained at the next show.

The rest of the weekend was spent doing nothing except watching bad TV, checking in on Roger Mexico (who ended up going to the emergency room on Saturday afternoon and spent the rest of the weekend doped up on Vicodin), and mentally re-evaluating the relationships in my life.

OK, yeah, I was doing a lot of wallowing in self-pity. I'm not having an easy time with Roger Mexico's impending departure. I've been bursting into tears at inappropriate times, and his news that he'd be leaving at the end of the week as opposed to mid-June didn't help much. I think part of what's upsetting me is that he already seems to be emotionally gone. I guess it's from moving around so much, but it's like he's packed up his feelings about the move in one of the boxes aligning his living room wall. And all I can see from my never-left-home perspective is another friend moving with his life, never to be seen again.

Wallow, wallow, wallow. Self-pity is bad for the complexion.

And as if all this wasn't bad enough, Life decided to add insult to injury. Two people in the period of less than 24 hours have pretty much told me that they have no interest in my life or feelings. OK, granted one person was just an acquaintance and was trying to make a bad joke, but the other person was someone I considered a friend. I thought this person was someone I could turn to when the world was crumbling around me, someone who cared. I suppose I misjudged again.

Maybe not, though. Maybe it's just another instance of me expecting people to act the way I do in similar situations. When a close friend is obviously in some sort of emotional distress, I try to see if there is something I can do to help. I at least ask what's wrong. If a friend is involved in some sort of creative project, I show interest in it and support his/her efforts. I guess I shouldn't hold others up to my personal standards; it only seems to lead to disappointment.

Again, I'm not saying I'm perfect. I think it's safe to say I'm nowhere close to being a shining beacon of moral standards. But there is a thing called common courtesy, and more and more I'm realizing it's not all that common.

This little lesson in friendship hurt much more than last week, and I'm really going to have to do some long hard thinking about where my relationship with this person is headed. I've tried to be supportive of this person, and sometimes he's a loving and supportive and caring friend. At other times, I wonder if he even remembers my phone number. There have been times when this person has come through on a supportive level with flying colors, and there have been moments where I feel like I'm standing outside screaming into the wind. I really considered calling this person when I was feeling down about Roger Mexico leaving and now that I've found out how little he cares about what goes on in my emotional life, I'm sort of glad I didn't.

I don't want to give up on this person. But I'm beginning to wonder if there will be any alternatives left. I give 100 percent, and I get back 25 - 50 percent if I'm lucky. And I'm tired of putting my energy into a relationship with a person who considers me an obligation or a nuisance.

Needless to say, I'm not sleeping well because of all this. Some days I sleep too much, some days I don't sleep at all. When I do sleep, my dreams wake me up. I'm becoming too edgy to eat like a normal person. I'm really becoming apathetic about everything.

I sound like a Zoloft commerical. If only I could afford the therapy....

(After walking away from this post for a few minutes, I need to add something. I never wanted to use my space on the internet like this. I never wanted to write posts saying "so-and-so hurt my feelings" and "whatshisname is a bad person." But, frankly, I'm frustrated. I'm at a pretty low point in my life right now, and the fact that I can't turn to this person for support because that's not what he wants to hear is like a kick in the teeth. It makes me doubt the relationship I had with him prior to this moment. Makes me wonder if the unanswered phone messages and emails were just oversights from a hectic lifestyle and procrastination like I previously thought. After a while, "that's just how he is" becomes a less viable excuse. And I don't want to think that way. I don't want to lose this person. I want to believe that my friend cares, but I'm having a harder time believing it.

This disappointment I'm feeling right now is the kind of thing I used to be able to share with my friend. What do you do when the problem is that friend?)