Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Sometimes Girls Need to be Held
Thank goodness the right arms are on the way
It's just one of those days. It's one of those days when everybody has deathly serious news to talk about. It's one of those days when the ladies from the office come into my room to talk about who died or who has cancer or who's in Iraq instead of what's for lunch or "isn't the new guy in the Flex department cute?" It's one of those days you get stuck in traffic and swear a lot only to realize when you finally get through to the next street that there's been a car accident and there's blood and glass all over the road. It's one of those days when you go out into a friend's car with him so he can smoke a cigarette... and end up hearing his entire life story... and you wonder how he made it. It's one of those days when you finally get home, after the day of work with the serious topics, the time in the car with the scary life story, and the time spent driving past the blood-soaked pavement, and you hope to sit down and relax but instead you find your mother crying. It's one of those days when you sign on, hoping to talk to the one you know will bring you comfort, and he's nowhere to be found. It's just one of those days I guess.
I feel bad. I went to sing with John today because he wrote a new song. I feel bad because my heart just wasn't in it... and he could totally tell. I think he thought I didn't like the song, and that wasn't it at all. Usually, despite having a terrible singing voice, I can get into the song enough that the occasional bad note almost sounds heroic. That wasn't the case today. I'll have to make up for it at practice tomorrow.
I've written lines to about 2398 new songs... but I can't take the songs anywhere... they're not writing themselves like they usually do.
I guess I shouldn't be here typing. After all, I promised my mother I'd go to the store for her. Actually, that's a lie. It was more like I walked in the door and she TOLD me I was going to the store for her. Nope, she didn't ASK me, she TOLD me. Now, I understand that she has cancer, and therefore does not have to be polite to anybody anymore. I'm an ungrateful daughter and ought to be taken out back and shot for thinking ill of anything she does. Heh... funny how just recently I wrote in here about how I hate passive/aggressive behavior, and now here I am, all irritated because my mother ordered me to go to the store for her. I guess I should be grateful that she was frank with me. Although, really, a "Claire, I need some things from the store. Could you please go get them for me?" would have been direct AND polite. This, of course, is from the woman who always made sure I said please and thank you before I was fucking old enough to talk.
But hey! Cancer patients can have anything they want. And anybody who gets annoyed with them is evil and doomed to rot in hell for all eternity.
I'll be sure to bring a fan.
It's just one of those days. It's one of those days when everybody has deathly serious news to talk about. It's one of those days when the ladies from the office come into my room to talk about who died or who has cancer or who's in Iraq instead of what's for lunch or "isn't the new guy in the Flex department cute?" It's one of those days you get stuck in traffic and swear a lot only to realize when you finally get through to the next street that there's been a car accident and there's blood and glass all over the road. It's one of those days when you go out into a friend's car with him so he can smoke a cigarette... and end up hearing his entire life story... and you wonder how he made it. It's one of those days when you finally get home, after the day of work with the serious topics, the time in the car with the scary life story, and the time spent driving past the blood-soaked pavement, and you hope to sit down and relax but instead you find your mother crying. It's one of those days when you sign on, hoping to talk to the one you know will bring you comfort, and he's nowhere to be found. It's just one of those days I guess.
I feel bad. I went to sing with John today because he wrote a new song. I feel bad because my heart just wasn't in it... and he could totally tell. I think he thought I didn't like the song, and that wasn't it at all. Usually, despite having a terrible singing voice, I can get into the song enough that the occasional bad note almost sounds heroic. That wasn't the case today. I'll have to make up for it at practice tomorrow.
I've written lines to about 2398 new songs... but I can't take the songs anywhere... they're not writing themselves like they usually do.
I guess I shouldn't be here typing. After all, I promised my mother I'd go to the store for her. Actually, that's a lie. It was more like I walked in the door and she TOLD me I was going to the store for her. Nope, she didn't ASK me, she TOLD me. Now, I understand that she has cancer, and therefore does not have to be polite to anybody anymore. I'm an ungrateful daughter and ought to be taken out back and shot for thinking ill of anything she does. Heh... funny how just recently I wrote in here about how I hate passive/aggressive behavior, and now here I am, all irritated because my mother ordered me to go to the store for her. I guess I should be grateful that she was frank with me. Although, really, a "Claire, I need some things from the store. Could you please go get them for me?" would have been direct AND polite. This, of course, is from the woman who always made sure I said please and thank you before I was fucking old enough to talk.
But hey! Cancer patients can have anything they want. And anybody who gets annoyed with them is evil and doomed to rot in hell for all eternity.
I'll be sure to bring a fan.
