I am just so sick and fucking tired of bullshit excuses. I hate being late, I always have been. I'm a punctual person by nature, and, accompanied by my slightly impatient tendencies, my reactions to my friend's lateness become that much worse. I hate when they think they can pull that crap with me. If you think I'm exaggerating, I'll give you a few examples:
1. Being made to wait an hour and forty-five minutes for someone in the Eaton's centre
2. Routinely being forced to wait for my friends at meeting points to hop a bus together. Times ranging from ten minutes, to forty-fucking-five.
3. Having a party time set for a certain hour, and then knowing none of your guests (despite the fact that they're your closest friends and have no where else to be) will be there for at least another two to four hours.
4. No one having a clue what the fuck is going on when because either a) they don't answer their phones or call back after seeing that you've called or b) their stubborn refusal to check their goddamn email despite the fact you've told them to upwards of ten times verbally, and to their FACE.
5. Having friends either be late to, or generally skip a presentation date at which--both of you being in the same group--they need to be. This of course either results in the losing of marks, or shortening of time in which you may present, causing further loss of marks because all of your information cannot be conveyed.
6. Being regularly mocked to my face about my stern sense of punctuality and morality, while their excuses run somewhere along the lines of: "Oh, I run on African time!" this garners laughter from the other, much less pissed members of the group.
Bottom line? I hate it. It makes me feel like shit. All that any of this says to me is: "Oh, I don't care about you enough, and don't even value you as a friend enough to have the courtesy not to waste your time. I don't take you seriously, and the world is obviously running on whatever fucking clock I want it to because I'm obviously more important. Plus, I just don't really want to see you all that badly. At all." Being late and apologising for it is one thing, especially if it only happens a couple of times. But when it is every single time, to the point where you just don't feel it necessary to apologise anymore, let me tell you something, you are damn lucky it's me you're doing this to, because I know not a lot of other people would take this crap.
And I BEG you, do not blame your lateness on other people. If you're getting ready at someone's house, and they are notorious for being late, leave without them! Don't be a suck like me and waste your goddamn time. I would rather leave them behind even if they offered me a ride and took the goddamn bus if I knew they were going to make me late. Nothing is more disrespectful or outright insulting than being late. It really shows exactly how little you care.
What's that? You're late because you don't know the bus route? FUCKING GOOGLE IT, BITCH! Nothing is stopping you from planning ahead--after realising you do not, in fact, know it--and searching it up so that you know. So that you don't get lost! Jesus Christ people, how hard is it to look up directions?
Furthermore, if there's even an INKLING of a possibility that you can't make it, cancel one day in advance, at least. Don't call, no, scratch that, text the person an hour before you're supposed to be there that you cannot come. And if you're going to do that, at least have the fucking courtesy to call them and say it to them in your own words, why all their plans have gone to shit. You can't tell them just then? Fine. Email them or call them the next fucking day.
Readers might think, in their minds at least (no comments, so I assume), "Wow. This girl really needs to talk to these people."
Well, guess fucking what, This Girl is so annoyingly and completely afraid of confrontation she can't even say it to their faces. In fact, This Girl won't even dare bring it up for fear of losing the friends that obviously don't give two shits about her. Fancy that. Instead she has to vent and suffer silently on an online blog that no one reads anyway. Alone. Seeing red she's so blindly pissed.
What's wrong with her? Oh yes, that's right. Nothing. She'd going to continue on with her perfect life, sitting up on her "high horse".
It sure is cold, and sure is fucking lonely.
Till Next time, when I'm not quite as blindly pissed, and after I've regretted posting this.
Chloe.
