I took up a new hobby this week: Disappointing people.
It’s rather freeing. I see now why so many people are so fucking disappointing all the time. Life is pretty easy when you’re a fucking selfish asshole who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself.
Bryan called me twice today after a month of silence. I ignored him.
No return phone call for you, asswipe.
A friend wanted to meet up for dinner this weekend. I made reservations two weeks ago. That friend proceeded to back out. I cancelled the reservations. Now she wants to meet up after all.
No fucking way, girlfriend. I’m making you as much a priority as you’ve made me.
I was supposed to meet a group tonight at an obscure location. The address I was given led me nowhere. I tried calling one of the guys, and his helpful guidance was, “Just keep wandering around. You’ll find it.” Guess what? I didn’t. So after half an hour of walking around outside in 95 degree heat, I went home. An hour later, I got six calls and three texts asking me to come back.
Thanks anyway, bitches. I’ve got better shit to do.
I caught up with an old friend earlier this week. At the end of dinner, he wanted to make out in the back of his truck. I figured, why not? He’s lonely, I’m lonely, and we can just use each other, knowing that neither one of us has anything at all invested.
His level of commitment is exactly the same as every other bastard I’ve ever gone out with. The only difference is that this fucker is actually honest about the fact that he has no intention of ever caring about me.