I have some really great friends, I’m not going to complain about them.
My friends from Alice Springs are connected to me through my high school experiences with them; we were kids together, we began the journey towards adulthood together, we got outrageously drunk too many nights a week once we turned eighteen, together.
My Brisbane friends and I weren’t forced together. We found each other. I guess it was the first time I’d experienced that, becoming friends with people not based on proximity, but on mutual interest in each other. It’s truly comforting to have made friendships with people I can call, in a really nerdy way, my people.
My workmates (and their partners and friends) make up the majority of my Adelaide friends. I’m so lucky that they are the greatest people ever; they make me not hate the fact that my work life is my social life. I adore at least 90% of the people I work with, is that normal? They are a big part of the reason why I feel like I’m not ready to move on from here.
But I am here to complain about something, and it is this: I feel like I’m missing some friends. Not actual real people who I can name, but theoretical friends. I’m not the kind of person who likes planning things. Scratch that, I love planning things. But not everything. I don’t like to plan days ahead that I’m going to hang out with someone, or go to dinner somewhere, or go on an adventure somewhere. What I’d like is this:
K: Hey [insert name here]. What’s going on?
INH: Ah, you know, not much. Want to go grab some dinner?
K: Sure. Where?
INH: Uh, I don’t know. Maybe [insert location here]? I haven’t been there yet.
K: Awesome. Meet you there in half an hour?
K: Later, fool.
INH: Peace out, yo.
Is that too much to ask? I just want some random spontaneous things to happen. I demand a phonecall out of nowhere with a request to meet me for coffee. NOW.