I really am that damn bad at organising or arranging things – this has been proven with birthdayageddon. Giving people who live hundreds of miles away a week’s notice, said week’s notice being a week’s notice for god knows what seeing as I hadn’t actually thought what we’d be doing, it getting to Friday and me deciding near-silently it would be my actual birthday thing, then re-deciding on today it would be today instead, like originally planned.
I don’t know why my brain can’t just think, sort it out, tell people and just get on with it. I’ve arranged good things before, but they were mainly a result of two things: they just randomly ended up being good and fun (see: BBQs at my basement flat), or because somebody else took the reins (see: whenever Ben is in a ten-mile radius and feels the organising itch).
When it’s just me doing it and it needs some actual attention? Nah, goes tits up mate.
Still, we shall see what happens this eve. So far I don’t think anybody bar one or two can be bothered coming out, as last night was a heavy one. Understandable. I’ll just end up upside down in a ditch, on fire. On my own. Or something.
Mid-year resolution: next birthday I will try and arrange something better. Or I will get someone else to arrange it for me, as I am shit at this malarkey.