We’ve all seen Groundhog Day, right? That silly movie where Bill Murray lives February 2nd over and over again until he Learns a Lesson and is finally freed from endless repetitions of the same day?
Well, lately it feels like I’m living the same day over and over again and time is speeding up but each day is just enough different from the last that I know I’m not trapped in a time loop.
One thing that messes up my sense of time is the screwy weather. Last year at this time we were freezing under what would develop into 18″ of snow with more to come and this year the temps have been in the 50’s with a fraction of the usual rainfall. Please, don’t hate me, it’s really freaking me out. Now, I’m not a fan of Winter storms, but it’s not supposed to be this warm or dry right now and I worry we’ll pay the price for Mother Nature’s switch-up for months to come. Feeling like we went from Fall to Spring skipping over Winter entirely.
This Saturday is the Newport Spin-in, the fiber event I wrote about in both 2014 and 2013. Don’t think I’m gonna go this year. Taking stuff to sell is just too much work for no return and I’m done with that sort of thing in 2015 – life is too short to do stuff that drains my energy. Besides which I have plenty of work from The Other Boss and money earned has to trump energy going out.
Last week was a bit fraught with drama of the stupid-ass-kid kind. Srsly? You would think that events from a few weeks ago would be fresh in his mind (my nightmares have stopped, finally!) but it seems he did not take my lectures and advice to heart.
He had almost two full months to find a job and get a roommate in order to keep his life on track. We were in contact by phone and text pretty much every day. He acted like he was working hard to get his shit sorted but it was all a lie. He did not get a job. He did not get a new roommate. What he did instead is a mystery, but it wasn’t drinking, thank all that’s holy. In spite of my constant encouragement and inspirational talks, he has decided to throw it all away and become homeless.
Now, before y’all get up in arms about mental illness and substance abuse and depression, you have to understand that we’ve had conversations in the past where he’s joked that he doesn’t want to live in a traditional house-type situation, how he would prefer to live in a tent in the woods, far away from people and all the bullshit. He has always been dead serious about this, so it’s not mental illness or depression talking – this is nothing new.
He hates the way most companies have online applications – all he wants is to go into a place and talk to the manager about any job openings because he feels he has a better chance that way. Of course, that presupposes he is actually walking into places that are hiring, but let’s not get in the way of his version of reality, ‘k? His way to find a job is (much like my father’s) to go stand on the porch, look down the street, say, “well, I don’t see any jobs today,” and go back inside to do something “fun.” I wish I was kidding. He’s always been that way – the last five years was an obvious anomaly.
I didn’t know how very dire the situation was until Wednesday night when I talked to him on the phone and he finally ‘fessed up about what was going on. I offered to pay his bills this month, stipulating that I could make it happen once and only once, but he flat out refused to take any money. Said I’d done more than anyone could ask and he deserved to live with the consequences of his actions. This was no one’s fault but his own and he has to grow up some time.
I went so far as to go online and send him links to job openings and people looking for a place to live (no shortage of either, as far as I could see) and sending them to him. I ranted on the phone, giving advice and trying to encourage him, but he had made up his mind and my efforts were futile. He detailed his plan for living outside and how he will manage. He has put considerable thought into this plan of his. I told him to keep trying – time has not run out yet and he can turn this around.
Friday night he was not talkative on the phone, answering in monosyllables, not wanting to hear any encouraging words. He refused my help several more times and I finally rang off, telling him I would talk to him on Saturday morning.
No answer Saturday morning or afternoon. I was torn between driving up there and letting him execute his horrible plan. Unable to decide, I called Mom instead. We talked for 2.5 hours and concluded that I’ve done all I can do. He’s a grown man and this is his choice. All we can do is be there for him if he wants help. Parents don’t have to like the choices their spawn make, but it is our job to support them however we can. Paying his bills will only waste my money and delay his moving out by a month.
I left several voicemails for him, telling him that I’m here if he needs anything or if he has any trouble paying his cell phone bill to get in touch and I’ll pay it online so he can stay in touch with the family. I told him that Grandma is there for him and that we all love him and support whatever decision he makes.
Now he has the chance to live his “dream.” This totally fucking sucks.
Didn’t I just do this?
Last weekend was full of the pointy-ball game and its associated hype. Yawn. Proud to say I don’t care who wins – I root for the Clydesdales 🙂
Here’s a question for y’all – when I say “last weekend” does that mean the weekend just past? When I say “this weekend” does it mean the very next Saturday/Sunday, assuming we are speaking from Monday or later in the week? Does “next weekend” mean, not the very next Saturday/Sunday, but the following? The narc would lecture me for hours about how confusing my use of the English language was – he just couldn’t keep anything straight because I did not use words in the “correct manner.”