Friends Versus Fevers

There’s something wonderful about a large group of friends you’ve known for a while and get on well with. They’re the best kind of antidepressant I’ve ever run across. Intelligent, capable people who will listen to your gripes, help you come up with solutions, and then help you take your mind off your problems, they’re the best kind of people. Cathartic.

I’ve dealt with some heavy issues recently. Those issues haven’t gone away with time. Indeed, they’ve only gotten worse, a fever that continues to rise. It affected my sleep. It hindered my work. It stained my interactions with people. The fever rose and rose, more and more things building up and skewing my life into a harsh and troubling place. My mind was having fever dreams, thoughts and ideas and conflicts and emotions all roiling and boiling in my brain. There was no succor for my mind, for my troubles, for my issues.

Or so I thought.

The fever broke today. The mass of issues came to a head and then popped, not unlike a zit. Popped and bled and hurt and was completely gross. Then the cleanup began. Like having a fever, the fever breaking doesn’t signal the end of the sickness. You’re still sick even after the fever’s gone. The sickness is still here, still holding on, still threatening to come back just as strong. It’s not over until it’s over.

Visiting with friends, having a good time, chatting, hanging out, venting, laughing, explaining, it was cathartic. It helped the healing process. I know it’s not over yet but a different kind of fever broke with the visit with my friends. A fever of the soul. All these issues have affected me deep inside, infecting my soul. The infection spread and spread with each troubling day until I could hardly think for it. Last night I was up until four a.m., unable to sleep, the thoughts tumbling in my head. I woke at seven a.m. and it was like I’d never slept. The more I chatted and laughed and visited with my friends, the more my soul healed.

Sufficiently bolstered, healed, patched up, and invigorated, I do believe I’ll be ready to get things in order and progressing this week. The fever’s gone and now the real healing can begin. My soul’s good to go, now for the rest of me!

The Spill

A drink spilled in my car today. A Dr Pepper. Medium. A friend and I went to a local restaurant to get a bite for lunch. I was craving a greasy burger and I got just that. We ordered, pulled around, paid, got our drinks. The food was going to take a little longer so we had to pull around and wait. I pulled around.

This was the version my friend told by way of explanation and it’s the truth.

The Truth:
I pulled around and stopped. My friend’s drink tipped over. It tumbled over and hit the floor, bottom first. The bottom split open and the drink rushed out. Some of it ended up on the rubber floor mat, some of it ended up on the floor. The entire drink spilled. My friend went to get some towels to clean up. I took the floor mat out, poured it out, and kept other cars from taking my passenger door off. Got the floor as clean as possible in a parking lot with traffic going by and a roll of paper towels. Went back to work.

I thought of a funny alternate story to tell everyone. So, after he told his side of the story, the truth, I told them “the truth”. Or, as I liked to call it, “What Really Happened”.

The “What Really Happened” story:
I pulled around and stopped. I looked over to see my coworker glaring at me.
“You remember all those horrible things you said about me at work?” he asked. He peeled the lid off his drink and, still glaring at me, his eyes never moving, poured the drink out on the floor of my car. Then he dropped the cup in the puddle he created, flipped me off, and called me an asshole. I hate going to lunch with this guy.

It’s hard for me to keep a straight face and tell that story. Something about it makes me laugh out loud when I think about it. It’s the exact opposite of what my friend would do. It’s just so funny!

Accidents happen. We can’t keep bad things from happening every moment of every day. Sometimes all we can do is mitigate the damage, get things back to a normal state, and find some way to laugh about it. The floor doesn’t bother me when I think about the story and the laughter from the obvious lie I tell afterwards. It’s a spilled drink, nothing more. I’ve spilled so many drinks in my car it’s just a more recent incident. No big deal.

Bad Times

Nobody ever knows what the future holds. There are so many random elements, so many possibilities to the progression of life, that we’re forever stuck in a moment-to-moment existence. Living in the now is all we really can do. Thinking about the future is all well and good but there’s no guarantee the future will be anything like you want. Thinking about the past is all well and good but it’s gone. You can learn from it and try not to make the same mistakes as others but that’s about it.

We tend to go through life with an impression that random events won’t happen to us. That chance doesn’t play with our lives. That we’re going to get along fine and things will get better from here. Things might get better, things might not. The best we can really hope for is for things to stay moderately nice. Okay.

There’s an odd saying, “the shit hit the fan”. Where did it come from? Who even thought it up? In what kind of situation would shit hit a fan anyways? Still, it tends to accurately describe situations in life. Things go from fine to bad really quickly. Life changes. Chaos is the universe’s way of saying things won’t be stagnant. Chaos forces changes that may or may not happen on their own.

When things get bad, it’s best to have good people around you. People who know you, who understand you, who you can trust. No one should have to go through the storm alone. Sometimes we like to be alone, like to have our own time and our own space. Bad times shouldn’t be that time. Bad times call for support, a shoulder to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, a helping hand to get you back up when life comes knocking, and by that I mean knocks you over. The last place any of us wants to be is flat on our back, punch-drunk from life and reeling, trying to pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off, alone.

The Busy

I’m waiting on my friend to show up. She’ll be here in a bit, a tiny flurry of busyness that borders on the neurotic. She’ll feed our dogs a wide variety of treats and toys, ask for food, make conversation, and begin talking about the bizarre oddity that is her life. She might bring movies. It’s entirely possible she’ll bring movies. She’ll jabber a mile a minute at any subject that comes to mind and we’ll be caught up in the whirlwind for a good many hours. She doesn’t sleep until four or five a.m. so she doesn’t get tired like most people get tired. I bring all this up to emphasize the fact that I must get this post out while I can. It’s like trying to write on a plane in the middle of crash landing: you have to get it out before the jarring stop and hope you have the chance.

Not to say she’s a bad person. She’s not. She’s a wonderful and funny person. She’s extremely time-intensive. You must pay attention. She’s the polar opposite of me in the social circles department. Where I have maybe two people who call me with any kind of regularity on the phone, and I live with one of them, she receives calls and texts all evening, every evening I’ve ever seen her. I don’t know who chats with her that much or what they chat about. Sometimes I find out, sometimes I don’t. Her phone’s a fountain of texting and talking optimized with a hardware keyboard for constant and extremes of use. She’s calling right now, be back in a second.

Some people have clear and definite diction and when they speak you know what they’re saying. Others speak very quickly and your brain has to take time to process what they’ve said. Even others speak with a slight mumble and your brain has to translate. She makes you have to do all three, process the clear speech with the speedy and the mumbled. It’s a challenge in person. On the phone it’s a blur of fully and partly understood banal conversation condensed down into a few moments of real talking. Always interesting. Always.

Friends

There are times in your life where you will need your old friends. People you’ve known for years, friends from way way back. They’re people you have hung out with for a very long time, people you’ve shared blood, sweat, and tears with  You’ve watched them grow and changed and they’ve watched you do the same. Through thick and thin, they’ve been your friend. One day you’ll need them. Make sure you try to keep good people for that long. Real and good friends are hard to come by in this lifetime and you’ll find the number won’t be large. Quality over quantity.

Realize that people won’t always be the way they are right now. At some point they may do something you hate or something you love. They may make you jealous or angry or sad. They may want you to stay away. It’s a two way street, being a friend to a friend. They may need you. You may need them. Make sure they’re people you trust, people you would go to bat for. Could you trust them with your house, your dog, your child?

People do dumb things when they’re young. That’s part of being young. It’s how you handle yourself in these situations, how far you’re willing to go, how dumb you’re willing to be, that makes the foundation of a person. It shows you what your friends are capable of, how far they’re willing to go for you and how far you’re willing to go for them. People do dumb things when they’re young. Make sure you don’t wreck the rest of your life in the process, or your friend’s. If someone who claims to be your friend is willing to wreck your life then they may not be the kind of friend you want around. It sounds bad to have to judge people you know in this manner but seemingly good people, good friends, can show their true colors at inopportune times. There’s usually some precursors that might show you what may happen. Be aware.

I’m needing old friends now. My friends are people I would trust with my life, dog, cat, child, children, house, car, anything. They are people who have helped me move, picked me up in the middle of the night when my car broke down, let me cry without being self-conscious about it. We’ve eaten, laughed, cried, been angry, fought, reconciled, laughed some more. I’ve watched them grow and change and adapt and become wonderful people. They’ve watched me do the same and they’re still around so I guess they like who I am. I have great friends and I’m thankful for every one.

Munchkin

I play Munchkin regularly with friends. It’s fun times, giving me a chance to get out of the house and away from the computer and socialize. I get to hang with friends, have dinner, and for a few hours revel in silliness, backstabbing, wacky hi-jinks, snacking, profanities, rule questioning, and the regular bitterness of defeat.

There’s a house rule: Cthulhu wins at a certain time. Once that time comes and the round ends, nobody wins. We’ve all been playing Munchkin so long, in so many different flavors, that we’re well acquainted with all the ways to prevent victory. ALL the ways. We’ve descended into absolute wackiness in our attempts to prevent each other from reaching level two, from beating a level one potted plant, from keeping each other from winning.

Cthulhu wins a LOT.

There’s no bitterness over it, no anger. Not usually. Sometimes new people join the group and start playing. I enjoy having new people come around. It’s a breath of fresh air, a new take on something we’ve done for so long. For the most part these people integrate well into the group and there’s good times all around. Some folks keep coming back for more of the good stuff. Others don’t do so well with failure, with losing. Those people don’t stay around too long. Munchkin’s all about keeping others down. It happens. Deal with it.

Victories that come with a group like this are few and far between. They’re truly magnificent feats when they happen  Mostly. Sometimes it’s just luck or the simple wearing down towards the end of the game. If the fates really are with you, you can win, maybe.

Keep trying, have fun, and expect absolute failure in large quantities. Munchkin times are fun times!