Sunday, October 16, 2005

Curse of the Were-Emma

It's quiet around Emma's household right now, because The Kid and his father are off to a Boy Scout Mass at the Kid's church (C isn't terribly happy about having to attend that part of the program) and then to a Scout outing in Far Buttfuck. Not really how he'd prefer to spend the day, but the Kid is all excited about being a boy scout (actually, I think he's excited about belonging to something, plus Dad is an assistant scout leader, which makes the Kid very happy). I'm willing myself to go to the 12:15 yoga class this week (I didn't go to the 9:00 class because it costs money; I have some passes I can use for the later class). I haven't practiced in about three weeks, and my body feels like it's made of cement and tree trunks.

Everyone's cranky this weekend; things keep piling on. I got our credit card bill yesterday, and they slapped on a $39 late fee PLUS another $38 in interest--I normally pay the full amount, so I never pay interest, so that pissed me off extra--because the post office decided to take two weeks to deliver the check. I called and bitched about the late fee, and basically said, remove the fee or I take my business elsewhere. So they did. But it was still annoying, and it'll probably still show up on the credit report as a late payment. We went to see the Wallace & Grommit movie last night, which was entertaining, but then C and I had to have a big ugly fight, which was much less entertaining. We sorted things out before we went to sleep, but it wasn't much fun.

C spent most of yesterday at scout leadership training, which took two hours longer than they said it would, and which featured half-bright people droning on (and on and on and on) about stupid stuff. This did not improve his mood. (The Kid and I went to the farmers' market and bought honey and apples, and we cleaned house, and I taught him to play Mancala, which I played as a kid for hours on end.) Plus, C vacillates between panicking about the job situation and being over-confident. He recognizes that a middle ground on that would be a useful strategy, but middle ground isn't always his strong suit.

We talked about some of that last night. It's one of those situations where his intelligence works against him, I think. He's pretty smart, though with no formal education beyond high school (and he spent the latter part of high school altering his brain chemistry). Because he's smarter than your average bear, he can keep a lot of balls in the air without being truly organized or centered. This only becomes relevant when the number of things he needs to manage is greater than the number of balls he can keep in the air. Me, personally, I like to plan things, typically to within an inch of my life, and then let go and let the plan work (or not, as the case may be; shit happens, no matter how much you plan--but worse shit is more likely as the amount of planning decreases). C, not so much with the planning and organizing, and it makes me crazy. When he was with his ex-wife, his planning and organizing skills were so much better than hers that it didn't matter; with me, though, it's more of an issue. (This is not what we were fighting about, however.) I think it might be related to the addictive behavior, but I'm not sure; I'll talk to him about that tonight and see what he thinks.

Exams this week, on chocolate, sugar, and showpieces. I'm trying not to stress about it, but I'm not sure I can maintain that attitude. I want to do well--not for a grade, which I don't think matters all that much as a grade--but because I want to execute competently. I should practice some more gluten-free baking this weekend, too, seeing as how I have to give a presentation on that topic next week, and I thought I'd bring some samples. Maybe this afternoon--after yoga. Unless S calls for more handball. I'm sorry: this isn't a very interesting or thoughtful post, is it?

1 Comments:

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