This Is Actually About Nothing At All

I’m sure this never happens to you. An utter traffic jam of thoughts, none of which can squeak past any of the others onto the page. Sometimes I manage to jot a note on a sticky pad when I get to work only to find out that I’ve forgotten what it means when it’s time to write. Like the bright pink one that said only “JAM”

Other thoughts get as far as my phone where I tap them out without editing and rarely ever go back to them, usually because they are incoherent or because they are the sorts of things that were better left unsaid to begin with, like this gem:

noteJealousy is super adorable, isn’t it?

And then there are the questions I mean to answer for myself but then decide those thoughts are too self-indulgent, too dark, or too without answers and so I don’t begin. For example:

Why is my co-worker such an asshole?
Why don’t I like to cook anymore?
How do other people manage to go to the gym, have supper with their family, and read stories without getting having to go at 8pm?
Is this just what life is?
Why is the Great British Baking Show so soothing?

I have a running list of cancer items, of course, but I get so tired of sobbing every time I let my mind slide around them and, since we’re friends, I feel like you deserve a break from the oceans of tears. At the top of that list is a post likely titled “WHY THE FUCK DID YOU THINK FRANKINCENSE OIL WOULD CURE A BRAIN TUMOR?” but I’ll probably dial it back to “RESEARCH IS AN ACTUAL THING YOU GUYS!”

I’ve got other things that fall into the category of venting:

My sister’s recent visit. My other sister’s upcoming visit. How I’m totally turning into my mother. I’m incapable of taking care of myself. Work is hard. Life is expensive.

And then there are the things this place is, at least superficially, about, like RR’s parent-teacher conference wherein we all learned that the sum total of RR’s life is Art. I am parts delighted by her dedication to turning out one drawing after another and concerned that all of the drawings are the same. Don’t worry, I have slightly less creepy photographic evidence. Also, asking for advice on teaching her to ride a bike (as in, this child has never agreed to try to pedal anything, not even a tricycle). And updates on the Search for a First Grade which is not as easy as you’d think and involves a fair amount of patience with ones wife* and school administrators. That list item drags behind it a whole host of controversial musings on testing, after school care, taxes, Public School, city practices for special needs children, The Smell, arts funding, and money.

*Me. I suspect that I can only moan “but who is RR, really?” so many more times before my wife simply enrolls her somewhere without telling me.

Advertisements

4 Responses

  1. Oh no, I definitely have a train of thoughts that I think “oh,I can’t possibly share those” or I think how nice it would be to have a place to write them down that no one knew about.
    My child hates to pedal anything. My Aunt Jenny never learned and she turned out okay, so I use that to make myself feel better about it.
    Also, I have no idea HOW some people do it all and don’t end up in bed by 8 pm. I’m right there with you.

  2. Dude, I take a shower at 7 pm most nights. And then feed the baby for hours and get not enough sleep. But actual adult things after 8 pm? Unless it’s drinking wine? Um no.

  3. My kids are almost a year old, and i STILL haven’t cleaned my apartment since 2 days before they came home from the hospital, so yeah…and about RR and bike riding…get her a glider…it looks just like a bike but has no pedals. It will teach her about balance and how to feel her body. She’ll start pushing herself around, first one foot at a time in a modified walk of sorts, then two feet off in short spurts, until finally, she’ll glide across the whole front walk with both feet up, and be so proud of herself, and then, you buy her a real bike!

  4. I agree about the glider. Learning balance is super helpful before learning to ride a bike. I was a slow bike learner, I must have been 8 years old. Sure enough my older son learned just before his 8th birthday, a few weeks after his 5 yr old brother perfected biking. Don’t rush things, is what I’m saying.

    I thought your message was admiring how some people are so lovely. I’m not really a jealous person… There was this girl in college with knee-length, red, wavy hair. Like Merida, but tamed and long. I called her princess in my head and was happy when I passed her on campus. I don’t think I ever envied her though.

    RR will do well wherever she goes to school. She’s awesome. And honestly, it’s not a permanent decision. If she’s really struggling at one school, you can always change schools.

    I’m sorry about all the bad cancer stuff. I too have relatives who would believe frankincense oil would cure brain cancer. I’m always willing to listen if you need to vent.

    I hope the JAM note was about quince jelly. It’s my not-so-secret love. Patrick doesn’t seem to mind.

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: