My day has reached its apex, and it’s only 9:00 AM.
I came to the office this morning, bearing my contribution to the firm’s disappointing pantry and feeling something like a bizarre bag lady. Hair still wet from a hasty shower, mascara smudged down one cheek and a Gristede’s sack full of plastic flat wear will do that to a girl. As she heard my shoes click-clack past her, my best-good office friend spun around in her chair to say good morning.
“You look skinny!”
“I do?” I looked down, surveying.
“Yes!” she said, “Skinny-winny.”
That’s it, I thought. I should pack it in now. The day is simply not going to deliver anything better than that.
Yesterday was emotionally taxing. Work itself was a breeze, since I had previously decreed that it was no longer allowed to get me worked into a state, fretful or otherwise. But because I had not explicitly stated that family was on that list as well, my father did his best to keep things from becoming too tranquil.
My parents should keep the stress of their divorce to themselves. But should and do being entirely separate matters, I sometimes find my inbox littered with the spoils of that messy war.
I feel betrayed, my father wrote, that I could love someone so much, and that she could brush off twenty-seven years to go find herself… I’m jealous of your mom; it seems life just works for her.
You have to understand that when it comes to my father, whose emotional development is somewhat… arrested, I usually take great pains to be gentler with him than I would with other people. This tactic basically involves never telling him the truth. You can probably see how that lends itself to counter-productivity. And over-consumption of berry flavored Tums.
That being said, yesterday, my patience for such things was at a minimum. We’ve all had days where we feel as though everyone wants a piece. And not in a good way, either. So, eggshells be damned, I sent the following reply.
I’m sorry that you’re having such a hard time. But you have to realize that life does not “just work” for Mom. Or anyone else for that matter. But this is something I think you should discuss with her. I’m not equipped to deal.
That was that.
And today, I bask in the glow of email silence and the fact that these pants seem to make my ass look fairly fantastic.
1. After the call I just had from my mother, I really needed this.
2. I had originally read the last line to say and bask in the glow of email silence that makes these pants look fantastic, and immediately realized that it’s my pants that are causing my bad day, and swore to change into jeans before this evening.
Good for you, Fish. Sometimes you just have to be blunt to protect your own sanity.
The bad news is, my parents are dead, and I’m frequently sorry for that. The good news is, they no longer trouble me with their infantile spats and horrendous drinking binges. I have enough of my own infantile spats to cover the missing insanity, but at least I don’t drink.
Anyway, stay clear of both of them when they want you to be the enabler. You’re not the parent and you cannot solve their problems, even if you really wanted to.
Your honesty and integrity, not to mention setting your boundaries, are what make you one cool fish. Congratulations for not letting your dad passive-aggressively get you to take sides in a situation that, as you know, has nothing to do with you. As you said . . . life doesn’t “just work” for people, rather, we work our asses off to live our lives and make them work (especially here in the ‘ol NYC). As much as I feel for your dad (and for any man in that situation, including a couple of my exes) he has to figure out how to make it work for him on his own. No coddling will do the trick; rather, it’ll just prolong the agony.
Glad you are having a good day today. Glad someone is.
Your arse looked fantastic last friday too.
It’s amazing the myriad forms that human relationships can take on. Your deal with your parents sounds like a Bergman film (and I just saw “Scenes From a Marriage” last weekend).
That said, I have been (and may still be) very much like your dad. It has been difficult to admit that everyone struggles and it is only how one responds to the struggle that determines the level of difficulty in life. It’s obviously easier to decree that some people have it easier in life because it makes our own situations easier to deal with. (“I didn’t do this, someone [God] did it to me”.)
I wonder does your father have any goals other than your mother. What is his self-definition? Perhaps he should go on his own quest.
If you wanted to pass on some cruel advice (and it’s “cruel” only because it’s true), you could remind him of the old AA adage “It works if you work it.”
(PS – That also applies to your ass looking fantastic in those pants.
Honey…what doesn’t make your ass look fantastic???
God, my dad too…and boyfriend…and well, what man’s emotional development is somewhat healthy? I’m DYING to meet one…just one…who’s hot too. Hottness preferable.
=)
My parents were married 25 years before my mother needed to “find herself” as well. Fish, I’m really hoping our single time now will prevent the “finding ourselves” later. And if finding ourselves in skinny pants makes us happy, well, then, bring it.
Careful, Fish — the last time you found a pair of pants that made your ass look fantastic, you backed into a hot radiator.
Good for you, for tellin’ it like it is!
Funny, because I tend to “protect” my father as well (he left my mom after 30+ years) … to be frank, he actually needs a kick in the ass.
I don’t know why I am concerned w/his feelings, since he shows little care for mine.
On the other hand, I have recently taken to tellin’ it like it is at work. Not exactly a good career move, but who cares? Like I told my boss and everyone else at a meeting today, “my days here are numbered”.
God, please let one of those 13 resumes from last week get a call back! *fingers crossed*
I’m still drinking that wine. Must stop now. Drinking at home alone on weeknights very bad for ellephantoms.
Good night!