Love, understanding and volleyball

I play volleyball every Thursday with my faithful friend, S.

How many times do I have to miss before I'm not allowed to say that anymore??? I don't want to say "I played volleyball" because that sounds like I've quit the team or I had to stop because on an injury. But that's not it at all. Life just gets in the way. Today it's not life, so much as it's me. I'm tired and I would need to shave my legs, but I haven't got a razor. Is that a "legit" excuse?

We don't even play on a team. The rec department has a Thursday night open "pick-up" game volleyball that it organizes (well other than reserve the room, provide nets and cash our checks, you can't say they are organizing it - the "men" do that - dividing up teams and arguing over the rules).

My very, very faithful friend. Someone whom I can always count on to listen to me rant and rave or cry no matter how trivial... we are so different (she is quiet and reserved, a numbers person and responsible), and she still loves me despite my loudness, inability to keep a checkbook (not that she'd really know) and complete disorganization.

Every time I blow it off, I feel bad because I'm letting her down.

So really, the question isn't how many times can I miss volleyball before I can't claim to play it, but how many times can I disappoint my friend and partner in crime. As I've noted before, the guys can be condescending, and even mean, so we need one another for moral support, a smile and a "good game!"

Good thing that I'm sure our friendship can handle a little disappointments. I love you, S.
This is for you:

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