About fricken time

I'd say it was about time to drop a line.


I just got home after the whole day spent visiting relatives, meeting friends, closing my bank accounts, getting stocked up on contacts and some shirts and stuff. Three coffees and three semi-meals later, I still feel like someone forgot to defragment me.


My mates keep asking me how I feel, my mum keeps making me more and more paranoid, and everyone seems to be really stressed about the whole thing.


No one's considering the me part in the equation. Okay, I'm being asked a lot of questions, but I'm also being blamed for tons. All of a sudden it's a problem that I can't meet everyone at once, it's unbelievable that I'm taking off for a short weekend on the coast, and I'm to be blamed for everything that's going wrong.


Everyone would like to spend some time with me, but when it doesn't work out, it's my fault. So, people are away all the time (everyone should lead their own lives anyway), but somehow I've turned out to be the bad guy.


My mum would like to spend some time with me, meaning we'll probably watch CSI or talk about what my plans are when I get there (like I have a clue). My parents spend a lot of time (especially during the warmer months) at their weekend house. I go and visit them when I can, because I have my stuff and they have their own anyway. But when they're around, I'm miraculously expected to sit with them all day long.


That means rolling my eyes to tons of really weird questions (Will you have a fridge there?), but at the same time acting like it's all OK and I'm not annoyed at all. That will be followed by dozens of worn out advice, blessings and what not.


It's weird how it turns out it's all about them, and not about me.


So, I'm taking off, I'll live thirteen thousand kilometres from the place I grew up in, it's me who's going to live way too far away from his friends and (at times smothering) family, but it's them who're having a hard time.


Sounds legit.

I feel like a psychiatrist

You know how shrinks just listen and then when people are done talking and leave, they just end up kind of standing there and occupying the room?

(I don't since I've never been to one, but I'm imagining it's like that.

Besides, I'm thinking that I wouldn't mid going, just to see what he thinks...)

I come home after a long day and I listen to my dad retelling me his day. In detail.

I like my meals, since they kind of make the only peaceful part of my day. And here he is, retrograding through today hour by hour.

I’m unemployed, as thousands in this country and millions around the world and thus don’t have the right to grab the talking stick. One cannot talk without a talking stick.

So I listen. And I’m not even the type that can just shut off and pretend to be listening. No, I soak everything in.

How he met his friend, how he cut the trees, what he was planning to plant, how he’s planning to cut them.

And then I got home.

I’m almost done with my meal and he’s still describing. The lunch has been there all day. Two meals in fact. Plus soup. Now he wants to eat and I warm it up for him.

That’s dad.

Mum spends a lot of time at my brother’s cooking, babysitting, cleaning up and what not, so when she gets home, she’s completely wiped out. She doesn’t tell as many stories, but she’s all drained out and annoyed.

Whatever I say is wrong. Or at least not good.

Poor people who catch me in my talking time. I probably don’t stop ranting.

Poor you.