Yeah, man. The thing is, almost nobody has any fucking idea what they’re doing with their life. Most people are just winging it. And as you grow and learn about yourself, often times your priorities will change. It sounds very much like you just outgrew several of your friends, and that’s 100% completely normal. It also sounds like you’re learning about the wacky, wonderful world of construction delays, and that also, sadly, is 100% completely normal.
Life’s going to shit on you from time to time. Calling it now - their estimate of May is going to be way off. There’s even a good chance that you’re still not going to be able to move in by your wedding date. I mean, obviously I hope that’s not the case, that they actually make good on their estimate, and that you can move in and get that bit of hot stress out of your life. But from experience? Make a plan B.
There are two points of advice that I can give from my own life. The main thing, as some of the other users here have said, is to hold on tightly to those people in your life that you don’t want to lose. If someone is worth your effort, make sure you’re putting the effort in. Great people will drift apart from you just as surely as meh people if you don’t make a constant effort to keep them in your orbit. It’s just part of life.
The second bit of advice? Go easy on yourself. You’re probably not going to wake up tomorrow with some burning passion or sense of purpose and direction. You might never get it. Most people don’t. A good way to find happiness is to become ok with not making some huge impact on the world, and instead just focus on the things that bring you joy. And if it takes you a long time to come around to that mindset, I at least hope that you’ll be gentle with yourself along the way.
I think it’s not so much about the genders of the shoppers, but rather their approach to shopping that is most telling. I take after my mother: I’m a Combat Shopper. When I enter a store, I have a specific plan of action, and my goal is to execute it as swiftly and efficiently as possible and get out. My father, on the other hand, was very much a lookie-loo shopper. He would spend hours at the store slowly walking up and down every aisle trying to think if anybody he knew would want whatever bit of tat was on the shelves in front of him. Drove me fucking nuts to shop with him.
I think that combat shoppers can shop with other combat shoppers, and lookie-loo shoppers with others of their ilk, but pairing one with the other is a recipe for hurt feelings.