i could rationalize.
i could think, oh, maybe she's had had a bad day - worse than normal. oh, maybe she's not feeling well; she's been under the weather lately. oh, maybe the siblings have been giving her a headache again. there are too many things, small things slowly accummulating all day, and in the end she just probably wants the day to be over so she could finally sleep.
i could rationalize it as that. but fuck it, giving reason to her behavior does not make me feel better about it.
"were you able to pay your taxes?" she said as soon as i got in.
"no," i said.
"why didn't you? today's the deadline. there's no extension and you have to pay extra because you're filing it late --" she went off like i purposely avoided paying taxes. "-- and you forgot to bring the bills," she concluded, like i'd purposely avoided bringing the fucking bills so that i won't have to pay for them.
is a gentle "good evening, son. how was work?" too much to hope for?
fuck it, woman. i could understand you probably had a crappy day, and you'd had nothing but crappy days in all of your fifty goddam years on the planet, but do you really have to drag me into it? do i really have to share all of that with you?
i've had a long day and long week. it's friday night and my work week's already just started. i'm broke, i'm stressed, and a friend - one of the people i really enjoy hanging out with - suddenly passed away and i won't be able to attend his burial.
i'm thinking how will i survive the next two weeks and how will i eat and will i still be alive by the end of the year and all you worry about is my income tax and the utility bills. isn't it enough that i worry about those things? i didn't ask to worry about those things for me; i assure you i'm more than able to manage that on my own.
fuck it. i've given up on ever meeting a warm, affectionate mother when i get home. can't i even wish for someone who's quiet, and not crabby, and not complaining? is shutting up and not saying anything for ten minutes too much?
i wish some people would learn how to suffer in silence.
i could think, oh, maybe she's had had a bad day - worse than normal. oh, maybe she's not feeling well; she's been under the weather lately. oh, maybe the siblings have been giving her a headache again. there are too many things, small things slowly accummulating all day, and in the end she just probably wants the day to be over so she could finally sleep.
i could rationalize it as that. but fuck it, giving reason to her behavior does not make me feel better about it.
"were you able to pay your taxes?" she said as soon as i got in.
"no," i said.
"why didn't you? today's the deadline. there's no extension and you have to pay extra because you're filing it late --" she went off like i purposely avoided paying taxes. "-- and you forgot to bring the bills," she concluded, like i'd purposely avoided bringing the fucking bills so that i won't have to pay for them.
is a gentle "good evening, son. how was work?" too much to hope for?
fuck it, woman. i could understand you probably had a crappy day, and you'd had nothing but crappy days in all of your fifty goddam years on the planet, but do you really have to drag me into it? do i really have to share all of that with you?
i've had a long day and long week. it's friday night and my work week's already just started. i'm broke, i'm stressed, and a friend - one of the people i really enjoy hanging out with - suddenly passed away and i won't be able to attend his burial.
i'm thinking how will i survive the next two weeks and how will i eat and will i still be alive by the end of the year and all you worry about is my income tax and the utility bills. isn't it enough that i worry about those things? i didn't ask to worry about those things for me; i assure you i'm more than able to manage that on my own.
fuck it. i've given up on ever meeting a warm, affectionate mother when i get home. can't i even wish for someone who's quiet, and not crabby, and not complaining? is shutting up and not saying anything for ten minutes too much?
i wish some people would learn how to suffer in silence.
1 comment:
i would like to say "come to momma." hey, i believe there have been good days, too, with her. maybe life has just been bitter on her and she takes it on people she knows would understand her. but then again, who am i to say?
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