Sometimes I feel like a doormat

        My friend and I have just finished working out and are enjoying the sauna.  “Sometimes I feel like a doormat.”  

My friend turns to me.  I can see the beads of sweat bubbling on her face.  “How so?” she asks taking a towel and wiping the sweat away.

“My friend called me last week crying.  So naturally I asked what /why.  She had been planning a small celebration for a promotion she had received recently.  This was to occur the next day.  The same day she was moving into her new apartment.  She wanted to have dessert, but would not have time to pick up anything.  She went on and on about how no one cares.  Feeling sorry for her, I volunteered to pick up dessert after work.  She brought up how we made cupcakes for another friend, but I probably didn’t have time to do that.  I said I don’t, but I will get some.  I didn’t really have time due to other commitments, but I thought it would be a nice gesture.”

“That was sweet of you, but why do you feel like a doormat?”  My friend asks wrapping her towel around her neck and leaning back.

“There’s more.”  I say leaning back too.  “I texted her the day of the celebration to find out what time to be there.  I showed up at the designated time only to find out that no one was there, only her.  She told me she hadn’t had time to tell anyone what time to be there, even though she had set this up a week before.  Another person who was supposed to be there came early to help her move and left because she had to get up early for work the next day.  I had to get up early too the next day.  I sat there with expensive cupcakes and no one to eat them.  Her roommates stayed in another room and ignored us.  I was beyond mad that I had gone to all of that trouble for nothing.”

“I’m so sorry.  That sucks.  Did you say anything?”

“No, I couldn’t.  I was just too mad, I didn’t want to fight with her.  However, it gets worse.”

“How?”  My friend is now staring at me waiting for me to continue.

I take a moment.  “After I left, she posted a thank you on Facebook to her roommates and her other friend for everything they did that day.  I was not included in the thank you.”

“Wow.”  This my friend’s only response.

Sometimes I think I am a bad person

“Sometimes I think I am a bad person.”

My friend and I are walking down the street.  The mid afternoon sun was beating heavily on us.  She turns her head and looks at me through her dark sunglasses.  Her eyebrows furrow.  “You’re not a bad person.”  she says trying to comfort me.  “Why would you say that?”

I stare ahead trying to watch my step.  I have a tendency to trip on anything in my path.  I take a moment to gather my thoughts.  “The other day I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in a while.  She’s a writer like me,  although I had been unaware of this until that same day.  She mentioned she had a begun a blog about two years ago.  She also has a book she self-published.  Hearing all of this, I realized she is much farther along in her career than me.  I became saddened  by this.”  I pause for a moment.

We slow down and sit on a bench on the sidewalk.  “That’s it?  That’s why you think you are a bad person.  Because you were jealous?”  my friend says surprised.

“No, that’s not why.  There’s more.”  Watching people pass by, I continue.  “I went home and read her blog.  Immediately, I felt better.”

My friend raises her eyebrow and glances at me.  “Better?  Why?”

We both turn and watch woman with a cute puppy go by.  “Because it was full of grammatical errors.  It was full of missing words or ones misspelled.  She used little or no punctuation.  It was clear she had not proofread it.  A couple of mistakes would have been fine, but it was littered with errors.  Simply put it looked like it was written by someone who had never opened up a grammar book in their life. ”

“That’s an awful thing to say.  You’re being very critical.”

“I know!”  I throw up my hands in the air.  “See, that’s why I think I am bad person.”  I bury face in hands leaning forward.

My friend puts her hand on my back.  “You’re not a bad person, just human.”