My daughter very nicely asked me last weekend to bring home the swimsuits that Grandma purchased last fall on clearance. Of course I forgot. So this morning as I lay rubbing the sand from my eyes, still prone on my very lovely slightly padded mattress, she reminded me again. I asked her to write me a note, with pictures, using her Kindergarten spelling. She did, and here’s what it said:
DO NOT FOUR GET THE BADEN SOOS MOM
Now, swimsuits will forever more be known in my home as “baden soos”. (Don’t worry – I made sure she knew she did a great job, and she smiled big through Daddy’s teasing.)
That picture up there is the view from my chair out the back door of our house when the weather’s nice and we bother to open the drapes. You can see exactly half of the car, a large chunk of our garage, and a giant power pole. There’s just enough room between the garage and the pole to back up a regular sized electrician’s van, and thus also my car. Yes, it’s a tight squeeze.
How do you feel about other people’s bad days? I’ve always thought it was impolite for me to answer honestly when someone asks how I’m doing and all I have to say is, “I want to die, really. Give up writing forever and just die in a pool of my own disgusting nature.” I mean, that’s a conversation killer at best, and at worst, the other person will ask what’s wrong, what’s going on, and how can they help.
Some of you may know first hand how when you’re feeling like that, you don’t really want to talk to anyone else. Or even better, you can’t even talk about it, because you don’t honestly know what’s making you feel like the crap hanging on the fur of your overweight cat’s butt.
But I know someone who actually wants to actually hear that kind of thing (the “I want to die” kind of thing, or the “I’m about to lose my house” kind of thing), because then this person can feel like they aren’t alone. And really, except for kids who are suffering from ennui but end up sharing stories of how, “I’m so depressed today,” and then get in arguments with their friends over who is more ”depressed”, nobody usually talks about being upset/depressed/bored/wanting to die. Except maybe with their therapist or husbands behind closed doors.
Not with folks from work. Or from their writing group. Or with folks on the Internet.
So back to the question. Do you want to hear about people’s bad days? Or do you just not want to see them until they’re feeling better? I understand it’s different for “bestest friends furever” and relatives. What about the folks online who are really no more than acquaintances?
And just one more random thought. Why does Taco Bell taco meat smell like farts once you’ve spilled it on your clothing? Don’t actually answer that. I enjoy my Cheesy Gordita Crunch too much to want to know that particular truth.
