There’s so much that I try to fit into every weekend that it’d be just impossible for me to get it all done. Essentially, I set myself up for failure and it’s a behavioral pattern that I’ve sadly grown accustomed to. While I’m not a hardcore procrastinator, I have been known to, on occasion, push important tasks to the next day, or the next. By Wednesday of each week, I’m already arranging and rearranging the order of all the things on my to-do list and by Friday, I’m usually ready to go. Somewhere around Saturday evening, things start looking a bit shady and by midday Sunday, I’m already calculating in my head exactly what I can push over into the next week. These are all usually small and mostly inconsequential chores, but they are nonetheless on the list and will have to be done eventually…I know…but later. Unfortunately, one area where I’ve been extremely lagging behind is in friendship hygiene. I haven’t been a very attentive friend lately, and I know it. Furthermore, I’ve been planning to get to it, but…
I had the great joy of getting to talk with two really great and old friends this weekend. For me, that makes this weekend a huge success regardless of whatever else I was able to check off the list. Though I don’t like telephoning, as an expat, I don’t really have many other choices. Skype is a great service, but it requires so much that an old-fashioned call just doesn’t. While it’s apparently easier than ever to keep in touch with people these days, I feel like, with some of my friends, it’s been ages since we’ve had an in-depth conversation about anything. Now, I’m in my 30s and so that means that lots of my friends are quite busy at the moment trying to have kids, having kids, surviving kids, or talking nonstop about their kids (I know, your kid is exceptionally clever, exceptionally healthy, exceptionally socially aligned, exceptionally exceptional….I get it, and I just don’t care!), and I really do understand that it’s legitimately challenging to raise a well-adjusted child and do…well, anything! It’s a hard job, but an elective one.
My point here is not to malign anyone with children for not carving time for me into their sleep-deprived and offspring centered lives, because I’m just as guilty of neglect. Sometimes, I have so much to do that I don’t even remember that there are other people in the world, let alone that it’s a friend’s birthday (a big thanks to Facebook for continually remembering what I never in a million years could). Every week my register of mountains to climb grows longer, and every week I tell myself that I must remember to call so-and-so because it’s been way too long. Rarely does that thought endure the hard birth into reality. So again, I’m not complaining about my beloved friends, but rather asking myself, just how, and when, did we get so damn busy!?!?
As I mentioned, this weekend out of pure good fortune, I was able to touch bases with two friends who mean so very much to me. Despite them both being parents, despite the world still turning around us and nothing stopping for an instant to let us catch our breath, we were able laugh and explain what the world looks like to us at this particular moment in time. Hanging up the phone, on both accounts, I felt like I had reclaimed something lost, something which I’d had all along but which I was keeping too close to my chest — rather like a broken arm; something which needed extending, opening up, and using. For the first time in a long while, I really felt like a good friend.
I know we’re months and months away from 2018, but I’m making a resolution today to be a better friend, a more communicative and patient friend, one who makes space and time for those who are so very important to me. I promise not to put it off any longer.