Stick A Fork In Me


<start venting>

Today was one of those days.

Work found new levels to suck ass after it not sucking ass so much lately.

My friend who skypes me all work day decided to make today about how someone needs to fix her son – because it’s not her job apparently.  It’s the school’s – it’s the doctor’s – it’s someone else’s.

The roommate brought so much chaos energy into the house that I had to keep away from sharp knives else they may have found their way into his body….somehow.

I kept having to remind myself that Indigo is not feeling well, and that is why she is a bit punchier (read: more annoying) than usual.

My printer is fucked, so printing out the art tags for the show tomorrow was less than ideal.  And realizing that I cannot hand this off to someone else without significant effort (due to their whining and general helplessness about doing small tasks annoyed me).

Then, I learned that I’m on the agenda for a kink meeting next week.  I only learned about this because SB saw a copy of the agenda and pinged me to ask if I knew I was on the agenda.  While I am a member of this group and should get agendas too, I am, for some reason, off the email list no matter how many years of dues I pay.  If you are getting the impression that no one confirmed with me that I could come – you would be correct.  Because if they had, they would have found out that G is out of town next Tuesday for a school event, so I don’t have him to take DJ to TKD.  Parenting duties win.

While I was debating what to do with this information (call the out on it or let them be faced with the fact I was not there at the meeting), a dear friend of mine pinged me to see how things were going.  I vented a bit about this new discovery.  And I told her that my leaning at this point was away from contacting them proactively – but letting them wonder where I was only to realize no one confirmed with me I could attend.

“What would be perfect,” I fantasized, ” was if someone was there who could speak up and mention that I had overriding family obligations that I had been talking about for a while.  Then it would drive the point home that no one truly talked to me – no excuses or implication could be made that I blew them off.”

She commented there were a few people in attendance that could do this but she was sure someone would happily do it.  Then she mentioned she had made this comment to her husband who would also attend.

Later, she came back and said that her husband would not do it – that he would prefer to send email beforehand.  I said ‘thanks but no thanks – I’m sick of bailing that group out – may this be a learning experience for them.’

“So no email?” she asked.

“No email.”

I checked my email 20 minutes later…..and he had sent an email.

Right about that time, I got a message from her commenting that I’m not usually this passive aggressive about things – I must really be pissed.

About this time, I was starting to get pissed that I am always fucking expected to bail out those who can’t get out of their own ways.  So, since I’m thinking about stepping aside and seeing if the consequences of their actions get their attention instead, that makes me passive aggressive?

So I commented back that I get paid lots of money to give people like them the care and feeding they seem to need.  My desire not to do it in my free time on a day where I’ve had a shitty day is not passive aggressive but me drawing a boundary.  Meanwhile all I kept thinking was “speaking of boundaries, I am venting in confidence and this information is used to bail them out again – nice respect for my boundary.”  But I chose not to say it given the fact I’m just done.

And I am done.

I’m done with being the adult all the fucking time.

I’m done with being expected to be the responsible one all the fucking time.

I’m done with others feeling that it’s more important than I do the right thing for others than doing the right thing for me.

I guess I will go to bed.  Shut off this day and the people in it.  And hope tomorrow is better.

‘Tis all I can do.

Because I’m done.


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