The New Job lit­er­ally fell apart in my hands. One minute, I'm being con­grat­u­lated on adapt­ing more quickly than my con­tem­po­raries and really begin­ning to like the atmos­phere, and then boom! The next day, every­one is informed that the client has decided to push our prod­uct launch back another month.

We're then told that alter­nate posi­tions within the com­pany will be offered to those who were inter­ested. And though it wasn't as good as the orig­i­nal posi­tion, when my call came, I took it. Two days later, another call came my way, but only to tell me that there were com­pli­ca­tions with the new posi­tion. So again, it's back to the draw­ing board for yours truly.

The Best Friend has been hav­ing a lot of trou­ble lately. We finally had a long, in-depth dis­cus­sion the other nite about every­thing that's been going on. I think that we made some head­way, but time can really be the only judge of that.

I really wish that there were more I could do, maybe dis­pense some advice that I haven't already given, do what I could to make things change for him. But I can't, really. All I can really do is lis­ten and pro­vide the smack-to-the-head when needed. The other nite, it was des­per­ately needed. We'll see how it goes from here.

The Friend/Former Love/Enemy/New Friend appar­ently didn't miss my friend­ship that much. The last time we spoke (some­time last month, which was also the first time we'd spo­ken for about two months pre­vi­ous), she told me over and over again that she des­per­ately wanted to stay friends and get past all of this.

For some rea­son, I agreed, know­ing full well that the task that came with it would be much, much more dif­fi­cult than the actual idea of "being friends again." The thing is, I usu­ally give peo­ple sec­ond chances. If they spit in my face a sec­ond time, that's it. I'm done. But for her, for our "friend­ship", I made an excep­tion. Since that last con­ver­sa­tion, she hasn't spo­ken to me once.

Some friend­ship.

I have the feel­ing that the only rea­son she wanted this was to alle­vi­ate her own guilt about wrongs done, which would make them, and me, much eas­ier to for­get. If that's indeed the case, kudos to her. Fuck off and die.

I really should be care­ful about what I say. When­ever I acknowl­edge some­thing pos­i­tive in my life, the fates seem to make it their busi­ness to prove me wrong. One would think that by now I would have learned my les­son. Oh well.