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The doorbell didn't work. And they didn't hear when I knocked. I was stuck outside. After I had gone the wrong direction and was still hoping I found the right house.
That feels embarrassing.
It reminds me of how I felt when I got to the restaurant early to get us a table, but they got their own table when they arrived and I had to move over to join them.
It's hard to enjoy our time together afterwards.
Even just these two examples show too many such situations lately.
And I feel like a terrible person when I don't feel warmly towards my friends.

But the blanket I made and gave them is in the baby's play pen. And she has a picture of me on her wall and on her fridge.
I am valued.

Friendship is an investment. You don't get anything back without putting anything in, and what you gain is somewhat proportional to what you give. Still, sometimes you are surprised because an average investment brings you an amazing amount of pleasure in return. Other times, however, your investment brings very little in return. Like the stock market, friendships go through peaks and valleys, high times and low times. It's not a simple game. And I guess it can't be simplified enough to fit it into this analogy: unlike monetary investment, friendship is not all about me, not all about getting.

Life is awkward and full of angst, hard to maneuver graciously but spotted with enough good to keep you moving forward.