Seriously?!

Weekend drama

Thursday Night Foray was good, but would have been better if I'd not been so damn tired. After class, where the four of us (CPI, Tiff, Jill, Myself) were less than inspired, Jill went home and us three went to Tiff's house. I brought beer and V&T supplies and Tiff supplied the snacks and more beer. We played rummy, which CPI taught us, until about 1am when we stopped to watch some Ren and Stimpy classics on Spike TV. I'm lying in the floor half asleep and finally get up to make the drive home. CPI follows me out. The weather was horrible, driving sleet and snow. I was really glad that the last drink I'd had was all tonic no vodka, or I'd have had to spend the night.

Friday was Wags going away and the company wanted to take us out for a celebratory drink at Bacaro for making goal. I skipped it. I wanted to go for Craig's bon voyage, but the idea that I might have to listen to any more rah-rah-go-team company bullshit overpowered the lure of free food and drink.

When I get home, Monica is heading out. She's decided to meet Kris over at Bacaro. I get the place to myself for a few hours until Jeanine gets home, at which point it's late and I can barely keep my eyes open. I crash at about 1:30am.

My telephone goes crazy at about 2:45am and my first thought is "OHGOD my dad has had a heart attack!" I look at the number and eventually through the fog of 1.25 hours of sleep I realize it's Monica. She doesn't leave a message. The first time I try to call her I mis-dial and call Bali or somewhere. I hang up and try again and manage to get her this time.

She's in jail.

I get out of bed, throw on some clothes, brush my teeth (because it seemed like the thing to do) and head out to get her. When I get to the jail they buzz me in and I sit in the lobby and eventually they bring her. She's pretty shaken and obviously still drunk, but they let her go without me having to post bail. Thank god, because I'd have had to write a hot check which is probably not a good idea to do considering it would have been made out to the police department.

We stop and get cigs, which I pay for because she left her wallet in her car and it's in impound, and she gives me her half-truth version of what happened to her. She says she only had three drinks. Riiiiiiiiiight. Like I can't tell she's to'e up?

Come to find out she got pulled over because she forgot to turn her lights on.

Yeesh.

She's bawling saying how John (who is a teetotaling cop, BTW) is going to freak out, and what is she going to tell him and blahblahblah. I ask her if John has ever in the whole time we've known him ever had a freakout? She says no. Has he ever even made the Richtor Scale of Freakout even at, like, the 1.2 level? She says no. Well, then, he may be upset, yeah, but he's not going to freakout. Shit happens. He knows this.

She goes on and on and on about how she feels like she's hit rock bottom and is on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

OK. I'm trying to be a good friend here, right? I'm having a seriously hard time keeping my temper with a person who has one minor speedbump in life and suddenly she's teetering on the edge. Numerous friends of hers (myself included) are going through some real shit, i.e. death, death of child, suicide, attempted suicide, loss of job, forclosure, repossession of car, loss of all monetary support... Jesus. She has it so goddamn easy! Her parents paid off her car, she has no debt, there's the healthy little nest egg plus John to depend on financially, she mooched off Jeanine and I for 3 months before we had to hit her up for rent... Aaaarrrgggghhh!! She's so fucking spoiled I can't stand it!

I wanted to deck her. As it was, I do my best to console through gritted teeth, then when I get home I dodge her and try to go back to bed. I'm sorry. I can't deal with her shit right now considering I have so much of my own to deal with.

Honestly, right now I think she is the most selfish person on the face of the earth, and I really dislike her as a person.