Guests

“And your friends….. they treat you like a guest. Don’t you want somebody to love?”

As I was mulling over the prompt, ‘guest’ I thought of those lyrics from Jefferson Airplane. The song describes the feeling of loneliness although you are not alone: of having superficial friendships but no real connection.

I don’t get many guests at my place and I’m not a guest very often. The last person here couldn’t be called a guest; she couldn’t live up to that standard. She was an ex co-worker I let stay “overnight” because she had nowhere to go. The third day I had to fight to get her out and she stole from me to boot.

The main reason I don’t have many friends is that I did love someone deeply. Someone I was so caught up in there was no room for another person. He was my husband and my best friend. (or so I thought) I let all my friendships fall away and we moved away from everyone close.

Thanks to Facebook I re-connected with a great group of friends I knew from my youth in Toronto. A few have come to visit and were good guests but time, age and experience has taken us to different places. They were guests.

We usually have a re-union in Muskoka but it’s not happening this year. I’m disappointed, of course. The host says I’m welcome to come up anyway, as a guest. I would rather go in the fall, which I say every year and don’t go. Mostly because I’d have to ask; “Hey, can I come up and be a guest?”  I’m vegetarian and don’t drink; my friends love to BBQ and drink. I can almost hear them groan.

Summer should be the best time for a guest here as I live at a very nice beach.  But living at the beach has meant summer employment for me. I worked at a convenience store with a LCBO (liquor) kiosk the first year I arrived. Another summer  I worked at their ice cream shop. (No, it isn’t fun. Why do people think that?) Now I’m working in a bakery in the grocery store of a tourist town. The last two weeks have been so busy we are running out of product and I’m being whipped into a frenzy to “get more done!”  Extra days and hours are added on every week.

I work as much as I possibly can in the summer so I can get through the winter when my hours are down to only 10 a week. It’s easy to save my money because the work is so hard at my age, I don’t go anywhere on my day off. I’m saving up for insurance, property taxes and propane. (Finger crossed on my car)

This weekend was very hard and I worked Monday, too. Today I’m off and looking around at what should be done;  it’s a good thing there are no guests coming.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/guest/

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