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August 24, 2000
Sad and angry
I really hate being pissed off at my friends. It's not something that happns often -- I put up with a lot, and I really have to be pushed far to get angry. And it usually doesn't last long. I usually feel guilty for being angry, and prefer to just let whatever the problem is blow over, rather than make a stink about it.
I especially hate being pissed off at friends I don't see often. I want the contact I have with them to be happy, not tainted by bad feeling. And right at the moment, I am extremely pissed off at Eric. Yep, the Eric that just visited. The one I hadn't seen in five years. And I'm not happy about it.
Eric's suggested a few times that I take a vacation and visit him. When he was here, he repeated the invitation a bunch of times. I emailed him to make sure he was serious, and not just being polite, and he said the invitation was sincere. Great, I think, and start hunting for cheap airfare. I ran some dates by him, and got a response from him saying that he probably would be working, so I wouldn't see much of him. Now, the dates I suggested were in December, which I figured was far enough away for both of us to arrange a little time off. I certainly don't want to fly out there if I'm not going to see much of him -- I don't know anyone else there, and I don't know the area. So I proposed a compromise -- I'd fly out for a long weekend, if he could get a Monday and a Friday off. I got a rather curt response that any time off he takes would be to see his family, and he couldn't promise he wouldn't be working over any weekend I visited. Um, hello? You invited me, remember? I just took two days off on short notice to see him, and I really didn't think it was asking too much.
I guess I'm not really angry so much as I'm frustrated. Eric's always been a workaholic. Back when we were dating, he told me that I was last on his list of priorities, after work, his family, and school. It wasn't a malicious thing, that's just the way he is. I'd hoped he'd outgrown it a little -- he was only eighteen when he told me that -- but apparently he hasn't. He was never able to strike a balance between work and his personal life -- work is all-consuming. That's not necessarily a bad thing, if you love what you do. The thing is, he doesn't. He's not happy, and he wants to make a change. That was one thing that made me hope he had learned to let work go sometimes, and to have a life.
And I hate the fact that I felt like I was intruding, trying to plan to see him, when he was the one who issued the invitation. It's not like he lives down the street -- he's a few hundred miles away. It wouldn't be easy or cheap for me to visit, and the fact that he acted as though my wanting to actually spend time with him was asking too much just made me fume. I ended up writing him an email saying forget it, I won't bother flying out, and maybe I'd see him next time he was here. The sad thing is, I doubt he'll even notice I was upset. It probably won't even enter his mind.
Posted by Mary Ellen at August 24, 2000 04:25 PM