*counting to ten...thousand*
Jan. 28th, 2004 05:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wordinista...Rant ahead. Be prepared.
Okay. So, I teach, right? In fact, I had the BEST DAY at work today. BEST. Today was seriously one of those "I love my job" days. My Brit Lit class finished reading "Pride and Prejudice" EARLY!!!
They READ AHEAD! We can start viewing the BBC movie version on Monday! *cheers* Colin Firth. *sigh* Colin Firth in wet, period clothing. I'll try and control myself in front of the class and NOT pause it at the part where he dives in the lake. ^__^
They were also collectively indignant when they found out they almost had "Dracula" on the syllabus, but that the Dept. Chair advised against 4 novels on a syllabus. They want to finish ALL the readings early so we can tack Dracula on at the end. And, no, I'm not kidding. And, apparently, neither were they.
Have I mentioned how much I love this class? Seriously. Work was so good today.
But, the home part of it? *rolls eyes* I love my mother dearly, but she. is. driving. me. NUTS!
See, she injured her shoulder at Thanksgiving. And it ached her ALL THROUGH Christmas and New Years. I mean... she couldn't lift her arm above her head. So, I was a good daughter and helped her. I mean, I was off work, right? Why not? She refused to go to a doctor, and has since been diagnosing herself on WebMD. (*sigh*)
I can understand the doctor issues -- she stopped working to go back to school and get her graduate degree. So, no insurance. But, there are times when you have to suck it up and just go to the goddamn doctor. This would be one of those times.
So, my entire Christmas break was more or less spent helping my mother, who was DETERMINED to bake enough to feed a small army. Would she accept help? No. Did this bother me? Hell yes.
Anyway. It's now almost February. Apparently Mom has a sprained rotator cuff. It's better though -- a LOT better than Christmas, which is a huge relief.
The problem? I'm still picking up all the housework slack. See, I didn't mind keeping up with laundry and dishes and picking up after my grandfather. (Okay, so I minded when the kitchen got shot to hell RIGHT AFTER I cleaned it, and would have to clean it again, but I digress.)
Let me clarify. I am the ONLY one in this house with a regular, stable job that requires me to get up in the morning and actually WORK. (I love my job, yes, but still -- it's not particularly easy.) George is busy getting his freelance portfolio together, and working on a few freelancey type jobs. Mom is taking one class a week and working on getting a business off the ground. He actually does most of his work in the wee hours, because that's when he does his best work. Mom pitter-patters most of the day and works on her stuff in the early evening.
The LAST thing I want to deal with when I come home is a sink full of dirty dishes and a full, clean dishwasher and a kitchen that looks like the Tazmanian Devil ran through. Nor do I want to come home to Mt. Clothesmore on the living room couch.
Now, on the surface, yes, I probably sound bitchy and unreasonable, because, after all, my mother is injured.
Except for the part where I caught her "touching up" the kitchen walls. Like, with paint. And a paintbrush. O____O!!!! And she's been doing other little Martha-Stewart-esque things to the house lately (and, gods, I HATE Martha Stewart).
So. I now put my foot down.
[.....]
DAMMIT! So much for putting the foot down. I'm taking her grocery shopping tomorrow. (Apparently she overdid it today. *sigh*)
Anyway. The foot being down. I was going to say that I'm determined NOT to be the FIRST one to swoop in and clean up when it's needed or otherwise swing to the rescue.
God, I'm such a fucking doormat some days. But, really -- she's my mom. Annoying me -- yes. She is. But she's my mother. And, yes, some days I have a hard time having sympathy, because she insists on overdoing it (and she's got a BAD habit of leaving her heating pad on). And ever since the Sam's Club debacle (which involved her overstocking her car until it was bottoming out, which led us to have to drop george off in the middle of some redneck neighborhood while we drove HOME and I went BACK to get him before he had a "Deliverance" interlude), I've had a hard time feeling bad for her (b/c, really -- total "Deliverance" neighborhood -- I could HEAR "Dueling Banjos"). But then I feel guilty for being angry with her, and then I get annoyed with myself for feeling guilty, and then I feel guilty AGAIN because I feel annoyed.
Did I ever mention I'm a former Catholic? Lotsa guilt, there.
So, it looks like I'm taking Mom grocery shopping tomorrow. Here's hoping it takes less than three hours. -__-
*rant over*
Okay. So, I teach, right? In fact, I had the BEST DAY at work today. BEST. Today was seriously one of those "I love my job" days. My Brit Lit class finished reading "Pride and Prejudice" EARLY!!!
They READ AHEAD! We can start viewing the BBC movie version on Monday! *cheers* Colin Firth. *sigh* Colin Firth in wet, period clothing. I'll try and control myself in front of the class and NOT pause it at the part where he dives in the lake. ^__^
They were also collectively indignant when they found out they almost had "Dracula" on the syllabus, but that the Dept. Chair advised against 4 novels on a syllabus. They want to finish ALL the readings early so we can tack Dracula on at the end. And, no, I'm not kidding. And, apparently, neither were they.
Have I mentioned how much I love this class? Seriously. Work was so good today.
But, the home part of it? *rolls eyes* I love my mother dearly, but she. is. driving. me. NUTS!
See, she injured her shoulder at Thanksgiving. And it ached her ALL THROUGH Christmas and New Years. I mean... she couldn't lift her arm above her head. So, I was a good daughter and helped her. I mean, I was off work, right? Why not? She refused to go to a doctor, and has since been diagnosing herself on WebMD. (*sigh*)
I can understand the doctor issues -- she stopped working to go back to school and get her graduate degree. So, no insurance. But, there are times when you have to suck it up and just go to the goddamn doctor. This would be one of those times.
So, my entire Christmas break was more or less spent helping my mother, who was DETERMINED to bake enough to feed a small army. Would she accept help? No. Did this bother me? Hell yes.
Anyway. It's now almost February. Apparently Mom has a sprained rotator cuff. It's better though -- a LOT better than Christmas, which is a huge relief.
The problem? I'm still picking up all the housework slack. See, I didn't mind keeping up with laundry and dishes and picking up after my grandfather. (Okay, so I minded when the kitchen got shot to hell RIGHT AFTER I cleaned it, and would have to clean it again, but I digress.)
Let me clarify. I am the ONLY one in this house with a regular, stable job that requires me to get up in the morning and actually WORK. (I love my job, yes, but still -- it's not particularly easy.) George is busy getting his freelance portfolio together, and working on a few freelancey type jobs. Mom is taking one class a week and working on getting a business off the ground. He actually does most of his work in the wee hours, because that's when he does his best work. Mom pitter-patters most of the day and works on her stuff in the early evening.
The LAST thing I want to deal with when I come home is a sink full of dirty dishes and a full, clean dishwasher and a kitchen that looks like the Tazmanian Devil ran through. Nor do I want to come home to Mt. Clothesmore on the living room couch.
Now, on the surface, yes, I probably sound bitchy and unreasonable, because, after all, my mother is injured.
Except for the part where I caught her "touching up" the kitchen walls. Like, with paint. And a paintbrush. O____O!!!! And she's been doing other little Martha-Stewart-esque things to the house lately (and, gods, I HATE Martha Stewart).
So. I now put my foot down.
[.....]
DAMMIT! So much for putting the foot down. I'm taking her grocery shopping tomorrow. (Apparently she overdid it today. *sigh*)
Anyway. The foot being down. I was going to say that I'm determined NOT to be the FIRST one to swoop in and clean up when it's needed or otherwise swing to the rescue.
God, I'm such a fucking doormat some days. But, really -- she's my mom. Annoying me -- yes. She is. But she's my mother. And, yes, some days I have a hard time having sympathy, because she insists on overdoing it (and she's got a BAD habit of leaving her heating pad on). And ever since the Sam's Club debacle (which involved her overstocking her car until it was bottoming out, which led us to have to drop george off in the middle of some redneck neighborhood while we drove HOME and I went BACK to get him before he had a "Deliverance" interlude), I've had a hard time feeling bad for her (b/c, really -- total "Deliverance" neighborhood -- I could HEAR "Dueling Banjos"). But then I feel guilty for being angry with her, and then I get annoyed with myself for feeling guilty, and then I feel guilty AGAIN because I feel annoyed.
Did I ever mention I'm a former Catholic? Lotsa guilt, there.
So, it looks like I'm taking Mom grocery shopping tomorrow. Here's hoping it takes less than three hours. -__-
*rant over*
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Date: 2004-01-28 04:53 pm (UTC)Though your lit class... that's great! :) I'm really glad that you're so happy with it...