Time

Oh I have so much I want to write about and basically no time to write any of it.  Whats under my skin at the moment is that my mother and I are at odds with each other.  Just a little.  She’s annoyed because she thinks I’m wasting her father’s hard-earned money.  That she spent nights without her father home cause he was toiling away and now I’m just tossing all that hard-earned money out the window.

I’m barely scraping by at the moment.  Still no health insurance and a car that needs more work done.  A sprained wrist, elbow and shoulder along with a car that is liable to break down any moment does not make me very open and happy about being accused of throwing money out the window.  If I had money to throw out the window, I’d probably throw it at my car.  Or my bed.

I’m angry and annoyed because I’ve realized that she has no idea what I’m going through.  She never really has.  She tries to understand, God bless her soul, but she just cannot comprehend it.  Things have been tough for her; I’m not saying she’s got a perfect life.  But she’s always had someone to help her figure it out.  Or to shoulder half the load.  She’ll never really understand what its like to be alone the way I am.  Her father took care of her (as a parent should, not babying her) until she went to college.  Where she promptly met my father and they got married.  She’s never done her own taxes or managed her own money or starved herself because there’s just no more money.  Perhaps its my fault for not telling them how close things get.  For not asking for more help.  For being so incredibly and fiercely independent.  "I will do this all on my own, thank you very much, I don’t need your help."  Yes, I was one of the willful children and still am in many regards.

I’ll figure this out.  I always figure it out.  Somehow.  But being at odds with my mother is someplace I’m not used to.  She’s mad at me over the money and I’m mad at her over the lack of care for her mother-in-law, my grandmother.  We’re at odds with each other and its throwing me off kilter.

I don’t want to fight with her, but every single conversation we’ve had in the past month has resulted in us fighting or the underlying strain of near-fighting.  Its exhausting and so therefore, I don’t want to call her or talk to her.  She texted me the other day that she was out to dinner and Heather was their waitress.  Its sickening, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if Heather spit in their food.  Maybe not.  Maybe she’s grown up enough to realize my parents have nothing to do with the lack of our friendship.  I don’t care if they see her or are nice to her or if my dad calls her.  They’re all adults.  I just want nothing to do with her.  And my mother has no idea.

And I have no time to process any of this.  Or write any of this out and down.  And my list of things I want to process just gets longer.
– My Grandmother
– My Mother
– Manny
– My fear of meeting Manny’s family
– Manny
– Moving
– Rape culture in the Christian community
– Manny
– Friendships in MI if I move
– Life in NY if I move
– Manny

And that’s just what I want to process and write about until I can sort myself out.  There’s also laundry nearly as high as my bed, taxes, budget, cleaning the apt (which still looks like a bomb went off), WoW raid prep (plus raiding itself), recipes for Stacy, worship services, choir rehearsal prep, cooking, deep spring cleaning, work, friendships, worship committee reports, cleaning out my old office, making reeds, practicing oboe, practicing piano, time for friendships and relationships….  There are just not enough hours in the day to cram in everything I need and want.

I’ve been trying to be more present in my friendships here in Michigan.  Which translated to I spent all of Friday night and all Saturday afternoon and evening with Stacy from next door.  We got stuff done and for the first time in a long time, I allowed someone to help me.  By something simple too.  She helped carry in the groceries.  Something small but made life so much better for me at that moment.

Gah.  I feel like I’m going crazy or drowning in… something.  The craziness of the crazy.  I just need some time and space.  May cannot come soon enough.