When Nothing Goes as Planned
I'm quite angry about today's entry. Trying not to be, but failing. I'm angry because... well, let me just relay the events to you.
Two weeks ago, after deciding against any of the movies that were currently in theaters, I reminded lazy-t that I would be canceling on him the following Thursday due to having a show. I also reminded him that I knew he would be canceling on me two weeks hence (yesterday) because he wanted to take his wife out of town.
At this second item, he looked surprised and stated he didn't remember wanting to take his wife out of town. He would check with her and call me. The call would also include a final answer regarding tickets to see Wicked in August.
He never called.
The rational side of me reminds myself that I never called him, either. But the evil-mean side says that by saying he'd call, the responsibility to follow through was on him.
All day yesterday I was looking forward to seeing Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. Because he hadn't called to say he was going out of town, I expected it meant he didn't. At 4:00, I left the building, to see his car not in the Circle.
So I called him.
And found out he was out of town.
The part that's making me growl just a little is that he didn't act like it was any big deal that he was out of town. The little notion of the expected phone call had completely escaped him. Well, not completely. He did apologize that he didn't call back to let me know about the tickets.
Y'know what? Screw the tickets. I needed to know not to expect you today so that I wouldn't have been standing here missing my bus home thinking I had plans for the afternoon.
Suffice it to say I haven't seen Transformers yet.
I got home after getting Quizno's and decided to watch Reba while I ate. The final season (#6) hit DVD on Tuesday, and I had purposely not opened the package from Amazon because I had been in "good kid" editing mode. Sort of.
Yeah, that got busted quite nicely last night. I watched Reba while I ate. I watched Reba long after I was done eating. I watched so much Reba that before I knew what had happened, the entire first side of the disc was done.
It's a 13-episode season, and I had watched 8 of those without even blinking.
After fiddling around on the net for an hour, I managed to convince myself that the last 5 episodes also needed watching last night.
Suffice it to say I got no editing done, either.
So I'm angry. I'm angry at lazy-t for sheer lack of consideration, though I suppose in his defense, I already technically knew he was going out of town. That's why I called him as soon as I didn't see his car in the Circle instead of waiting ten minutes or so. I realize that I'm far from the most considerate person on the planet. I have the social graces of a rhinoceros. Still, when I have to break plans with someone -- particularly long-standing plans like the movie day -- I make sure they know the plans are broken before they're calling to ask me where the hell I am. Is it wrong to expect the same of others?
I'm also angry at myself for being so angry with lazy-t that I lost myself in an entire season of my favorite redhead. I have editing to do, you know! By doing this stupid thing last night, I have fallen yet another episode behind on editing my freaking podcast. I'm angry that I let myself get this behind -- again -- in the first place.
I'm angry at the director of the murder mysteries. Granted, irrationally so, and this one merely because it came on the same day as the rest of this crap. He had already decided to extend the show through July. Yesterday, the word came down that the show is now going through August, pending everyone's availability. I have no life, so sure. I had planned to go see Wicked on a Saturday now that lazy-t has decided not to go, but that's out the window now. I have to figure out when to go that won't impact too terribly on the rest of the garbage I have to do in my non-existent life.
And the icing on the cake: Two celebrities that I have admired at one time or another passed away yesterday. Farrah Fawcett, most known for her role as Jill on the groundbreaking TV show Charlie's Angels, lost her battle with cancer yesterday morning. I loved her because even though she was gorgeous and knew it, she still came across as being sincere and friendly.
Yesterday afternoon, news that I'm still so shocked I can't believe it: Michael Jackson died of currently unknown causes. While much of his later life was plagued with eccentricity and scandal, you have to admit his musical legacy is something to be admired. The "Thriller" video alone is still among the most stunning music videos ever. I can't say I was ever a big fan, but I was an admirer and still love much of what he did in the 80s.
Both left their marks on the world, and the world is richer for having had them in it. May they both rest in peace.
I'm drained. Anger does that to me. Staying up until 2am doesn't help. (It doesn't seem that it should have taken that long to watch 13 episodes, but Plurk, Mafia Wars, and Street Racing got interspersed. As did a little showering and pausing to listen to the neighbors doing their same old crap routines.)
Gah. Bring on the weekend. Oh, right. I have a murder mystery to do.