When will the people around me realize that I am not available at their every disposal.
Doug called me around 4:45 this afternoon and said, "I'm in town and I'm coming by your work at 6:00 to talk."
My schedule on Fridays is hellacious. I do not get off work until 6pm, then I have to rush home to get ready for the gig, which involves putting on more make-up than usual. I have to do vocal warm-ups, and I need a few minutes of silence, before the hustle and bustle of doing three-hours of a very physical gig. Oh yeah, and I try to eat a little something, so I don't pass out. I have to do all of this between the hours of 6:30-7:15, because I have to be at the gig at 8pm. In other words, I have absolutely no time for anything or anyone on a Friday night.
I told Doug, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to blow you off, but I have no time to spare on Friday nights." I went on to explain why. Now, after six years he should know my hetic Friday night schedule, but as is the nature of the human being, my schedule does not matter. All that matters is that he has to get something off his chest. Well, guess what? There have been a countless number of times when he has promised to call me, or that I've been upset and he has not had the time to talk to me. Moreover, when I have been desparate to talk to him, I called first and made sure it was a convenient time. For him to