It's been a frustrating thirty-six hours for the Fiat, and I'm not entirely certain I should write about it. Except when you get the same frustrating thing from multiple different sources near-simultaneously, this is often a good indicator that you have missed something important.
I've basically just gotten the message--in real life, in a variety of different situations--from about six different people, "you're an irresponsible child, and we don't trust your judgment or think you really care enough to try." In fact every different situation has been accompanied by someone saying "you're a child." Of course not in a mean way--just in comparison to their standards.
Ordinarily I wouldn't mind being called a child, if it weren't for the context. And for the first time in my life I'm pretty sure that I haven't been acting like one. So maybe some kinda weird poetic justice, an opportunity to reflect on all those times in the past when I was irresponsible, did act like a child, and created this impression, this image of myself which is now proving so hard to shake. Either that or I am missing something really, really important which is about to rear up and bite me in the behind. However, I will not have an uncontrollable public attack of hysterical panic about it. That is what I did when I was a child. I instead will get fingernail-bitey and panicky at home, and then go to work and act like nothing is wrong.
Since after all, people a work probably have their own things to panic about. Like responsible adults, however, they are able to disguise their true feelings from everyone except those select few who actually care what those feelings are, and/or have the ability to do something about the situations to which those feelings pertain.
P.S. Present company most definitely excepted, as I explain in the comments. You guys and gals are all cool in my book.
P.P.S. Wow, major typo in the title there. Fixed it!
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6 comments:
Well, kiddo... (whoops!) you are a child... in many ways. One thing is for certain, it is a right of passage you have to take. There will always be those wishing to lord it over you, and when the day comes when they stop trying, you'll be longing for the "good ol' days", trust me!
Oh, and you were wondering about my blog? It's all in the name, girl...
All in the name.
Hey Kiffle, dear, I am sorry for contributing to any pain you may be feeling. Please know that I find you very intelligent and competent. However when you do something for yourself the first time under emotionally charge circumstances please understand that my experience has taught me to be cautious even with those for whom I have a measure of trust. Please keep in mind that I had to ask you for the details that made things amenable. Things as you initially presented them 'co-signing' carries several implications. However I had enough respect for your intelligence to ask for illumination in case the situation was more reasonable than it appeared upon initial presentation. I hope that you can come to feel both loved and respected. Without feeling respect for your competence I would not have asked for or expected reasonable details. Also I apologize if I offended by saying something along the lines of 'oh good, you are not being starry-eyed and naive' that was my fear based on your use of the phrase co-sign. If I really thought you were a child I would have talked down to you to educate you instead of asking for clarifying details from another intelligent adult. I am sorry if I did not sufficiently filter my comments to allow for the fact that you are currently in a stressful transition that should ultimately result in good for you and Dave. Love ya, hope all is well. I think Mom has packing stuff for you guys.
Dear fiat,
So glad to hear you're getting married!
John
Gideon -
Thanks for the good wishes and advice. :) Maybe I will look up your blog one of these days, in my copious spare time.
Amber -
Oh, sweetie, you are cool! Please don't think I was mad at you! I've gone and put my foot in it again. In fact you were the only one who actually took the time to listen and talk it out with me, and you made that whole little period of time merely extremely frustrating instead of unbearably awful. And I know once you went and explained to Mom what you'd gotten from me, she also understood what was going on and was cool with it. I sucked at explaining properly because I've never done this thing before.
Whole bunch of other incidents, which I didn't have time to delineate in the post (it was made at the library across the street from work before my shift started) combined to produce that state in me.
There was the prospective landlord and his extreme dubiousness. There was the conversation with you and Mom, which in the end turned out well, though I still felt stupid about not having been able to explain myself right beforehand and making you worry.
There was a lengthy and extremely tense incident at work. It involved me being at the deli department register when a couple of scammers came in and tried to trick us into letting them sneak things into their bags they hadn't paid for. They tried to pay with debit cards that didn't work, a check from a bank account that didn't exist, a gift card that was empty, and an insufficient amount of cash. They had many items and kept changing their minds about which they wanted and arguing loudly with one another in a rapid-fire fashion while both their hands were rearranging their items. I stuck to the register like glue while the parade of managers I'd called for came and went, each trying to get their stuff rung up, each calling in another manager. Near the end of the whole thing one of my coworkers shooed me away from the register and said "Honey, if you don't know how to do it, just ask for help." When I'd been the one who called in the parade of managers in the first place. I just wanted to stop the stupid scammers. I was so angry I couldn't speak.
Then that night, while me and Dave were hanging out with our downstairs neighbor Stan, he made a long series of obtuse and unworkable suggestions for how we could stay in the building. Things we'd already tried, or which were totally inadequate to mollify our landlord. I continued to assert that the things he suggested were things we'd already tried or would not work and refused to do them. So he concluded that I simply didn't really want to stay, and wasn't willing to try very hard because I didn't care and was lazy. I said a polite goodnight to Stan, then went upstairs and sobbed for about an hour. He'd just sort of unknowingly and casually sucker-punched me right in all my greatest fears and doubts, and I knew perfectly well that the fact that he'd done it meant absolutely nothing to him.
That's what was weighing on my mind when I wrote this. You as I said were a great comfort to me, and you have already played an important part in ensuring good things can indeed come of this stressful time!
John Weaver -
:D Thanks for stopping by, and for your good wishes!
Well, if it makes you feel any better, my mother has been running around telling people that my sister has been manipulating me in to hating her and I have the maturity of a 17-year old. All because I had the temerity to disagree with her and tell her to stop behaving abhorrently and running around telling people how much her own mother's recent medical issues will negatively affect her life. Since, y'know, she didn't seem to find it necessary to show up at the hospital or even turn on her cell phone and pretty much left it to my sister and me to handle everything.
Oh, and mom's also apparently been telling people that my grandmother has been trying to "steal" my sister and me from her. Because that's totally possible with adult children (one of whom has been married for, like, six years). But, hey, what do I know? I'm apparently an idiot who needs to have my mommy tell me what to do.
Either way, the point is, the only way to prove people who think you're an immature idjit wrong is to go out, face everything down, and just do what you've got to do. And, in all actuality, I've found that running around with a bit of a chip on the ol' shoulder can help immensely at times. It's never good to run around constantly assuming you have to show up the naysayers, but every once in a while that's a pretty good kick in the pants...
Geds -
Good point! I noticed the other day that I am beginning to develop pride (a certain type of it anyhow), and what you suggest seems like a really good use of it. If done very carefully, of course!
That's a bummer about the stuff your mom is saying. It sucks when people are all like "person X is doing this to person Y to make them hate me!" Cause far as I can tell, this is usually a tactic to make persons X and Y distrust one another. And since it seems like your mom is not actually being helpful but is letting her emotions push her around, that sort of ruins her credibility, there. Which like, drives you all away from her, when what she needs is support and help. Which you can't give her while she's being mean to you. Dang. Talk about your catch-22s.
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