Last night, for the first time in about two weeks (seriously, it’s a shame we Americans don’t use the term “fortnight”) I was finally able to sleep mostly straight through the night. I’d been trying to go to bed at my normal time each night, but at best I’d doze off and wake up anxious an hour or two later, unable to get back to sleep.
I really don’t recommend trying to function this way.
This morning, though, I feel rested. Alert. My head isn’t foggy, my limbs aren’t heavy, and my heart doesn’t feel like it’s been working overtime. It’s lovely. It’s amazing what a little sleep can do, and how little you appreciate what it does when you’re doing it normally.
Since I’m feeling so good, hopefully I can knock out some things on my ever-growing to-do list! Keeping busy may have the added bonus of providing me with a solid reason to avoid a certain friend of mine, as well.
I must be doing something really wrong, because it seems as if it’s just one thing after another with my friends, lately. Surely the common denominator is just me, when all of it seems to be going wrong at once?
A few days ago, a certain friend of mine asked me for a favour. It was an odd favour, to be sure, but odd doesn’t necessarily mean bad, and it seemed innocent enough. At least it did until the following day when he confessed something that, to me, seems directly connected to the favour he asked for, even though he swears it isn’t. The confession caused the favour he asked for to seem inappropriate, even disturbing and downright creepy. Now I feel sort of used… and manipulated. And I’m finding I really don’t want to speak to said friend.
Ooh, could I be more vague? The whole thing is so weird that I feel awkward and embarrassed just by nature of it having happened to me.
Again, though, all these things going wrong with friends all at once, surely I’m somehow the problem. The only thing they’ve had in common is me.