I travel to my friend’s house with a bag of dice and other strange accoutrements that, in an 80s teen film, would lead to me being thrown into a dumpster. I love it
R
ecently, I reached out to a friend to see if they wanted to see the second Wicked film, only to realise the last time I’d seen them had been a full year – when we went to the first Wicked film. Oops. For a musical about friendship, it’s really lacking a number where Elphaba and Glinda try to schedule a lunch four months in advance.
I wish this was a one-off blip in my regimented friendship schedule, but all through 2025 I played the world’s slowest game of message tennis. I’d invite a pal for dinner, only for the world to turn, the seasons pass, grey hairs gather at my temples, before a date was finally locked in.
This sentiment seems to be common among my circle. In fact the latest Household, Income and Labour Dynamics in Australia survey revealed a long-term decline in social connectedness that has only worsened since the pandemic, with many Australians seeing a decline in friendships, particularly men aged 24–44 and women aged 15–24. In the horrible pyramid of late-capitalism needs, maintaining and valuing your friendships often falls depressingly low beneath “having a job and paying rent”. If I had a nickel every time I’ve had to let friends down the past year because I’ve been doing job interviews or the interminable tasks that seem to go with them, I’d have so many that I wouldn’t have to keep applying for jobs.
