My stomach is doing flip flops and denying me dinner and I don't know what's gotten to me more.
Could it be that classes started today and the total for my books came to a sweet $310.02? Or the fact that the professor in my 'Psychology of Motivation' class sang a verse of opera in Italian and told us we'd be writing a hell of a lotta haiku. (How Psychology = Haiku better be worth $30k in student loans.)
Or that I have a deadline looming over my head and editors coming out of the woodwork wondering if I can squeeze in a few more stories, get a jump on some features etc. etc. etc.
Here's the thing. I've never been the kind of friend who only takes the girl's side in a fight. That girl might be my best friend - but if she's being ridiculously unfair to her significant man then I won't hesitate to tell her. If the man means that much to her, I consider him a friend to me too. He's my friend-in-law.
But here's the thing with friend-in-laws. They're just like regular in-laws. They jump on a side. And usually, no matter how good you've been to them - you're on the wrong side.
Right now, I'm on that wrong side. And it hurts. Because this friend-in-law wasn't just an in-law to me. He's been like a brother. Who rubbed my back when I cried in my car waiting for his girl to get out of work and let me crash on her couch. He's sat many a night with me and tossed back beers, talking about our families and how similar we are to each other. When I've said, "Can I ask you a favor," he's always answered, "Anything". He's told me time and time again I'm not just his girl's best friend, but his. He's thanked me countless times for being there for him - and I the same. And as a single girl - small town or no - knowing I had that friend in him made me feel safer. A man to be there for me if ever I needed him.
Now, I am just another reason for his problems. Now he's put me on that very uncomfortable, awkward line. The line that makes me wonder if I've ever been a good friend at all. When his girl comes to me for help, he now blames me for the words I say and the position I take - whether she's agreed with me or not. It doesn't seem to matter. Now when she talks, he says, all he hears are my words. Which, quite honestly, makes me feel like shit.
I don't know if it's adulthood - because I never worried about this in high school - but sometimes you wonder just when you've crossed the line that separates being supportive and being too involved. You hope you give good advice, help as much as you can and ultimately the argument works itself out between the two of them. But then one blames you for "interfering" - and you feel...like shit.
And maybe none of this makes sense. Maybe it's the deadlines or the financial headaches or the mound of homework.
Either way... I feel sick.