Thursday, September 6, 2012
Stop driving on the walls! (stuff I yell at my kids....)
I remember being shamed into dancing with one such guy. My parents used to help chaperon every dance I went to in high school. At my first high school dance (ever), my dad met one such guy while all of the people were congregated out on the dance floor. I had seen the guy for the last few weeks and I was not friends with him. He was extremely invasive and didn't seem to pick up on any of the boundaries that I was rapidly throwing his way.
After about half an hour of dancing and keeping my dad in the corner of my eye, he eventually gestured for me to come over. In typical fashion, I was horribly embarrassed, but I wasn't about to ignore him and have it get problematic after the dance for me ignoring him. I came over, and he told me that the young man he had been talking to was really nice and I should probably go dance with him.
To this day, I have no idea what came over me, but I'm glad it did. The music was loud at the moment and I felt a red haze descend. I loudly, screamingly told my dad that there was no way. He got pretty mad and we stood there on the gym floor while everyone was dancing, and screamed at each other for at least 5 minutes, from what I can remember. Eventually, I was so irritated that I just walked off.
It makes me laugh retrospectively, because I was such a pushover with my parents. I still am. It is very very hard for me to ever say no to anything they ask. I am working on it, however. I hate saying no to people, still. I would rather lie and say yes, than have to say no to someone. That can be problematic for a number of reasons. Most of which come from, now people think that when I'm saying no, I'm screwing around. Meep.
Writing today has been very difficult. I'm trying to clean and take care of kids and I HATE THIS JOB. The only gratifying part of it is when my kids can run around and play downstairs. Then it is just funny. Even so, I am utterly exhausted by the end of the evening, which hits between 5 and 6 pm (day starts at 8), and many times after that, I go do some second shift at my parents house (maybe about twice a week).
I will be so glad when we have our own place. I don't care whether it is an apartment or a house, as long as there is a second room for the kids and that it is my own. I feel like I've written and spoken these words a million times, but I'll keep saying it until I have it. I mean it!