She Always Cancels

It is midnight when I remember a friend is coming early in the morning to play in the studio with me. I really should go to bed. Which friend? My husband asks. They are all the same to him. He does not know them. They belong to me, usually brought home from work. She is the one who always cancels, I tell him. I am pretty sure she will cancel. Six hours float by, and I wake with a start. Should I clean the house? She always cancels, my muse argues. Agreeing, I go back to sleep. I oversleep, waking again at 9; she is supposed to be here in twenty minutes. My heart is pounding. I grab the cell phone. Look for her cancellation. A sigh of relief. She cancelled at 8:23 via text. Sorry, she says. Stomach flu again. She has the stomach flu more often than children go to school. I am relieved that she is consistently unreliable. Also relieved I did not go out of my way. I invite her back next week. It is a game we play.