Saturday was a reminder of the rollercoaster.
Ever had one of those days that from first dawning, sap your very resolve?
Midnight Saturday morning, curled up on the same couch as a handful of nights previous, two cats in my lap along with the legs of a man who continues to evade my understanding, two of his friends on the other couch, and the tv blaring.
We'd just sat still for two hours of Anime, a fun enough show named "Gossaraki" and frankly, I enjoyed it.
Not necessarily the TV-obsessed banter that revolved around it, nor the strangely familiar sensation that I was in a living room that I shared with Tony and his TV-obsessed friends.
For the first time in a very long time, the majority of my humour was inappropriate.
For the first time in a very long time, there was no human connection.
For the first time... I sat with a textbook in my lap like I used to, and wondered what I was doing there.
Paul's young wannabe-movie-star friend, pointing out actors that he'd met throughout "The Whole Nine Yards", and the way everyone looked at me when I said I liked something or other that apparently was a "faux-pas".
I left with a sigh at the end of the movie, drove the young wannabe actor home, talked of goth and the local scene and the local media scene and on and on and drove far too quickly along a deserted and rain-slick highway.
I woke up early Saturday, wondering if I ever wanted to see any of them again, thinking "CEGEP was nowhere near as grand as I'd thought it was", rushing over to pick Marc and Dan up to go help Eric move.
Of course, Eric hadn't even dismantled his furniture yet.
It took us all day, ten hours spent soaked to the bone from racing in and out under a constant drizzle, sweating from the exertion and blue-fingered from the cold.
I can only keep grinning for so long while everyone else shudders with rotten moods.
I told John that I was sorry, but I don't think I'll be helping his girlfriend move this coming weekend.
I'll be catching up on EQ, where my fingers remain relatively warm and dry.
I helped Dan pick up groceries for his housewarming that night. We hit three pharmacies afterwards looking for diaper disposal thingamabobbers.
By the time I got home it was nearly 8 o'clock and I'd decided to cab it to the Wine and Cheese and cab it back to Dan's party afterwards because I was far too tired to drive.
I fell asleep thinking about it.
I woke up this morning, guilt painting the clouds black again, at skipping out on everyone. That guilt is still with me, despite John's hugs and playful mockery.
Even the RSVP-only one that I'd promised to bring my favourite Sherry to.
Hardly a day where anyone died, was raped, hurt, or where my life was set back any at all (tho how the work guys will take my not showing up, I don't know...) -- but such a colossal loss of 24 precious hours at a point where every speed-laden second counts for aeons...
Feh, I'm over it now, but nonetheless, I wish yesterday could be won back somehow.
Instead, I'm starting on today.
I'm off, like a tattered prom-dress, and I still haven't decided if I'll be making it to Paul's like I'd promised. I don't think I can handle any more television.