You guys, you guys, wake uuuuuuuup! It’s THURSDAY! Thursday is good for various reason:
1. I get paid today (MONAAAAAAAAYS)
2. It’s the day before Friday
3. I go runnan this afternoon
4. I’ve been working on putting together a website design, and I’m almost done with it! I’ll probably be updating it tonight or tomorrow night, depending on how much coursework I get done 
5. I get to feel introspective, and therefore probably release a lot of water weight (through sweat and tears) and get to feel less stressed out so that tomorrow’s exam won’t be the end of me.
Now, getting paid is always gewd. I have a lot of bills to get rid of, but getting paid is still awesome, because I get to pay my bills, therefore having less stress for the next week or so. Less stress is always awesome.
I don’t think that anyone who doesn’t have a work-schedule really appreciates the awesomeness that is Friday. People always say “What’s so good about Friday? It’s just another weekday, right? Shouldn’t you look forward to Saturday?” No, no, no, my friend. Here’s why:
Every morning of every weekday beginning with Monday, I feel like not getting up *at all*. I feel like the most comfortable thing would be to stay in bed, snuggled up with my loofah plush puppy and pillows.
But!
Friday mornings I wake up, and think “This is the last time this week I have to do this. I can do iiiiiiiiiiiiiit!” and push myself to get up and into the shower.
It feels really good to think “This is the last time…” of something unpleasant, isn’t it? Like, when you’ve got a stomach flu, and it’s almost gone, and you’re on the lavatory thinking “This is the last time I’ll have explosive diarrhea.” Or when you’re in the dentists’ office, and they’re finally gonna put the crown on that molar you had to kill cause of that cavity, and you think “This is the last time I’ll have to deal with that nasty taste.”
Saturday is just an added bonus that I can wake up later than 5am.
Running! I’ve been going running again every afternoon I can manage. I try and get at least a half hour. I’ve found that it’s very relaxing and quite awesome. The thing is… the scale is telling me I’ve gained 5 lbs, which is somewhat annoying. Maybe it’s muscle? Maybe it’s water weight? Maybe, maybe, maybe I’m just a fatass? I don’t really know. I’m going to get more strict on myself, and make sure I don’t get too much salt.
Here’s the introspective part:
I have two friends. Neither one know each other, one’s male, one’s female. They’re in different countries. But, I’m afflicted by similar sentiments for the two (no, I’m not bi). The lives of these friends of mine have taken a turn for the worse in the last 3 or so months. It involves mental breakdowns, school failures, etc. (It’s sort of creepy how similar their cases are, actually :/)
Now, I’ve been stressing out a lot for these friends. For the female more than for the male because I’m closer to her, and we’ve been friends since I can remember, or at least I thought we were… Anywho, I realized something: I care more about them and what happens to them, than they care about themselves.
About a week (maybe less) or so, I went nuts on the male friend. He said something I hate hearing from someone I’m worried about: “I don’t care.”
He said it, just like that. He told me, directly, clearly, without beating around the bush, that he doesn’t care about all the bad things that have been happening to him. My initial thought was, if he doesn’t care, why has he been complaining and crying about it all to me for the last two years? Then what followed was a really bad pain in my chest as I realized that, if he doesn’t care about himself, how could he possibly care about me? How could he possibly care about all the stressing out I’ve been doing on his behalf, trying to think of ways to help (I even came up with meal plans for him, because I figured part of his stress was about not having a good diet and sleeping pattern), crying with him and about him for all the pains he’s had… and he says he doesn’t care? I told him to not talk to me anymore, and have been avoiding him as much as possible.
My female friend hasn’t directly told me “I don’t care”, but I can see it in the things she does and says that she’s wanting to stay the way she was before she had her problems, instead of changing herself so that her problems will be resolved and so that they won’t happen again. She keeps friends that aren’t a good influence on her, people who have extreme problems of their own they can’t solve (anger management, alcoholism, drug addiction, mental instability), and instead of putting into effect the advice I give her, she listens and shrugs me off. I guess it’s an improvement that she doesn’t fight with me about the advice I give her, but, still, I can see and feel she doesn’t want to put the advice (which is sound advice, I would think, like focusing on school work and not watching emotionally detrimental shows) I give her into practice.
So, I just gave up. I don’t like to say I’ve given up on them as people, because if they come to me and not only say “Okay, I’m ready to get my act together” but also DO something to prove that they’re being honest with themselves and with me, I’m completely willing to help them.
I guess I can say, I’ve given up on thinking that I can help them, if that makes any sense.
It’s like I was telling my dad yesterday, when we were discussing the continuing problems between Israel and Palestine. The problem there isn’t political and economic. It’s impossible, it seems, for an outside source (like the US or UN) to be of enough influence on either side, so that peace can be accomplished. What is needed is a tweak in the subconscious. From the articles I’ve read, the hate that these two countries have on each other is something rooted deep within themselves, and it’s now part of their culture, economics and society.
It’s the same thing with these two friends of mine. They need to actively change their subconscious to force themselves to care.
Until they prove that to me, though, I give up. I can’t help them….
Then why do I feel so guilty about it?
