On Cancelled Plans

Well, ain't that a bitch. Over the last several weeks, more often than not, social get-togethers and similar rendezvous have been affected by the absence of one or more parties.

A dinner party's attendence was cut in half due to circumstances beyond people's control, and another evening's numbers were reduced to a party of one by similar bad-luck events. It's nobody's fault; it just happens. Apologies were received in any case. Taking umbrage over such slights is pretty pointless.

That's the mature perspective, anyway.

Monday night, a friend who was in NY was supposed to swing by for the Dead & Breakfast reading; and he couldn't make it due to circumstances beyond his control. In this case, it was his work. Last-minute stuff. He apologized, and I assured him it was alright.

... There's a difference, though, in A) saying it's okay, and B) pretending my feelings weren't hurt in the first place. I'd rather get it out now, than let it fester. Passive resentment isn't a good look on anybody. (Leastways, no-one I know.)

Did it suck? Yes. Did he do it on purpose? No. Am I getting over it? Yeah. It really is alright. Just needed to get it off my damn chest. Kaplahr.

Okay, then. Moving on...