Just because we are friends doesn’t mean that’s okay

I don’t know what it is.  Do I inspire disrespect? Do I have an aura about me that reads “loves slackers and those that can’t be dependable”? Or is the moral accountability in today’s society just not there any longer?

Today was a rough day.  After being at the theater for twelve hours yesterday, coming home and decompressing and dealing with the time change, let’s just say I was a heathen this morning.  I didn’t get up in time to go to early service, and to be quite frank with you I had no desire to go at all.  It was one of those days where you are just feeling anti-social and want to do nothing but be by yourself.  I know that sounds odd and selfish, but we all need decompress time, right?  No TV, no crowds–I spent the morning with a few cups of chai and a book, then cleaned (or pretended to), and got ready for dinner.

I wasn’t particularly in the mood for dinner.  For those that are unaware, Sunday nights are girls night at my house.  I Tivo that week’s episodes of Gray’s Anatomy and Private Practice, and after dinner we settle in and watch.  Because of the kid’s production at church last week, we had four hours of TV to catch up on.  Dinner, every week, is at 5pm at my house.  I haven’t ‘cooked’ much lately–made chicken noodle soup from scratch, or homemade spaghetti sauce, or something like that, but it had been a while since I had done the whole course-meal thing.  So, to celebrate spring (since we couldn’t celebrate Pi Day since Beth gave up sweets for Lent), I prepared a pretty darn good meal if I do say so myself.

Dinner was artichoke and Parmesan stuffed chicken breasts grilled outside, a homemade carrot salad, peas, and homemade rolls.  The rolls didn’t rise fully, but that’s okay they were still good.  Plus kneading dough is good for the aggression.

Here’s what bothers me. Dinner is at 5.  That is 5:00 PM, 1700 hours, FIVE O’CLOCK.  Has been every week.  Today, well, I was still home alone at 5:20.  Good thing I hadn’t put the chicken on the grill or the bread in the oven.  There was just something in me that had me wait, thinking that if I had dinner ready at 5 that I would be disappointed because the chicken would be tough, the bread would be burned, etc., if I had depended on them to be on time.  Why did I have that little voice inside?

Because they are NEVER on time.  They MIGHT get here at 515.  If I am making soup or something, I don’t mind as much because that is something that doesn’t have to be orchestrated.  But tonight?  I started cooking around 2 because the dough had to rise, the salad had to set, and so on.  I just find it incredibly rude.  If you’re here within 5 minutes or so, fine.  Half an hour deserves a phone call, at least.  This is not an open house, this is dinner.  A standing dinner time, not an open buffet that can be accessed at any point.

And on that note, the second thing that irks the hell out of me (but didn’t happen this week) is when one of the two girls call me at 4:55 and says to me, “I’m getting ready to leave the house now, do you want me to bring anything?” This irks me for two reasons: a) they both live at least a twenty minute ride away, so I have to immediately stop all I am doing to get the dinner to stop cooking; and b) if I needed something, well, it’s too late now!  I usually know what I am going to make by the time I leave for church in the morning, as I will stop by the store on my way home.  If I haven’t decided what we are going to have for dinner by 4:55 PM then there is a whole ‘nother issue going on besides your “thoughtfulness” and late arrival.

Okay, I’m done venting.  I know that I should just expect them to be here by 530.  But they both want to be gone by 9pm, and there is no way that can happen if they don’t get here until 530 or so–even with only two hours of tv to ask. And while I know it’s tacky, it is probably something you will see come up on this site again.

So let me ask you–what is your philosophy about being somewhere at a certain time?  Do you think it’s acceptable to be at a friend’s house, week after week, anywhere from 15-45 minutes late?  Especially after repeated emails to me saying “see you at 5 on Sunday!”?  Or am I just being too sensitive in this area?

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