There’s been a hole in my life lately. Two people – my two best friends – both had a baby girl within a month of each other. These were my 2am friends. “Help. I’m sad.” “I’m in bed. But I’m not working until 1 tomorrow. I can get up.” “Get dressed and get a cab here.” Not booty calls. Just reconstruction. We would often talk for hours on the phone, literally. I’d put the phone down hot handed and click back into a world that wasn’t speaking in my ear, almost confused.

Nowadays I have to put it in the diary if I want to see them. Even phone calls are interrupted and pointedly more practical. They’ve got shit to do. “Oh hang on, she’s crying, I’ll call you back.” I totally get that. There are small humans who demand a high level of general attention, and they depend on my friends for their actual literal survival. I was lucky to have one of those friends on hand tonight, though, while we left Rhys quite literally holding the baby. It could’ve been messy without. I think we both benefitted from winding down with each other. But I arrived in the interaction in a total state and she helped me find perspective.

I fucked up today, big time. A family thing, mixed with a family work thing. Something so screwy that I’m not yet over it enough to be able to blog it. And something that will almost certainly be the most expensive mistake I’ve ever made, plus will vindicate suspicions my close family have had about me for years. I feel very black-sheepish. I’m beginning to secure interesting friendships with my brother’s kids, but I think I’ll always exist as a message. I need to hit some good jobs soon so that message shows that these decisions can bear visible fruit. Because otherwise I’ll be remembered for fuckups like today, which will definitely be a good story once the dust has settled but right now feels raw because it affects my bro.

My family is also my friends of course, who will remember me for more specific kinder things and who miraculously put up with the results of my self-sabotage. That’s been for decades, and they know it, those few lucky/unlucky maniacs who persist.

I was late because of having to firefight the nonspecific (sorry) shitstorm I created. But with nothing more to go on than my monosyllabic “help fuck sorry late need hug” type messages, I explained my situation in full and got the most restorative evening I could’ve asked for from my friend considering I was a jittering hunk of stress when I arrived, and how much of a plum I’m feeling still. I remember my mum as a source of unconditional love when I got a parking fine. This is similar. It’s basically a thing that is 100% my fault that impacts me negatively.

You’ll get the blow by blow in time. Probably when I get the bill. Right now I don’t want to look at it. It just triggers more self recrimination and I’m supposed to be out of that spiral by now. Avoiding writing about it has made me smile about it for the first time all night though… Everything looks better from a distance… God the world… Hilariously nuts. Sorry to be evasive. Gah. Fuck. Idiot. Ugh.

I’m just home, to my flat, with Pickle. Going to wind down.



Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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