Monday, March 10, 2008
Even tempered...to a point
I'm pretty even-tempered. Well, I like to think I am. I weather the slings and arrows of fate pretty well on a day to day basis if they're happening to me. When they happen to a friend, however, I'm not so calm.
In college, a friend and I had finally gotten rid of another friend's noxious boyfriend and then he showed back up. No, we didn't do a "Good-bye Earl" number on him, he was an exchange student whose exchange parents sent him back. They sent.him.back....after 3 days. See, they were smart. C and I drove around until we nearly ran out of gas, her crying and me yelling. It was awful. I'd have put up with a boyfriend who was worse, but for G (our mutual friend) to have to deal with him again, was too much. She was too kind, too fun, too wonderful to deal with this idiot.
Eventually, she dumped him and C and I RE-joiced. Seriously.
In another college episode, my best friend (who has the worst.luck.with.men.ever) got dumped at the ER early one am by her winner of a guy who drove home in HER car. He'd have stayed with her, but he was really just too tired. Yeah, dude, no one's ever too tired to have an appendectomy. If I'd had a car at the time, I would have murderized him.
Fast forward to today. Good friend of mine loses his job. He's been figuring on this for a while. When he told me, it was all I could do to not cry. He really didn't need me crying on him. But I have been since then. Not even red wine and some really good chocolate can fend it off. I know he hurts. I hate, Hate HATE that I can't do anything to help. I can't help, I can't make it better, I can't make him laugh, I can't give him a hug. He's not in the mood to talk, so I can't even talk to him. He doesn't want to hear me blather on and I don't do the Pollyanna bit very well for very long. I suppose I will just worry from afar.
In college, a friend and I had finally gotten rid of another friend's noxious boyfriend and then he showed back up. No, we didn't do a "Good-bye Earl" number on him, he was an exchange student whose exchange parents sent him back. They sent.him.back....after 3 days. See, they were smart. C and I drove around until we nearly ran out of gas, her crying and me yelling. It was awful. I'd have put up with a boyfriend who was worse, but for G (our mutual friend) to have to deal with him again, was too much. She was too kind, too fun, too wonderful to deal with this idiot.
Eventually, she dumped him and C and I RE-joiced. Seriously.
In another college episode, my best friend (who has the worst.luck.with.men.ever) got dumped at the ER early one am by her winner of a guy who drove home in HER car. He'd have stayed with her, but he was really just too tired. Yeah, dude, no one's ever too tired to have an appendectomy. If I'd had a car at the time, I would have murderized him.
Fast forward to today. Good friend of mine loses his job. He's been figuring on this for a while. When he told me, it was all I could do to not cry. He really didn't need me crying on him. But I have been since then. Not even red wine and some really good chocolate can fend it off. I know he hurts. I hate, Hate HATE that I can't do anything to help. I can't help, I can't make it better, I can't make him laugh, I can't give him a hug. He's not in the mood to talk, so I can't even talk to him. He doesn't want to hear me blather on and I don't do the Pollyanna bit very well for very long. I suppose I will just worry from afar.
