As of today, quit has sprinted out into the lead, but I'm too busy to do anything about it.
Todd just dumped a load of paperwork on me to "do now." He's had it for a week, but didn't tell me about it until the day it's due. I already had a full slate of things to do today, and when I didn't react with glee to his not-so-nicely worded "request," he launched into an argument about how what he was asking me to do was "easy" and he didn't understand why I have to turn everything into a fight. I'm too tired for these mind games. Maybe I really am the problem--overreacting and lacking in meekness and generosity. I know he believes his point of view is without flaw . . . so, I consider the fact that I am equally as stubborn as he.
After he finally let up (ie. left for "work"*), I was left shaken and confused. What happened? Why do these confrontations always leave me feeling so confused? Like sci-fi quality alternate realities are being constructed around me and I awake in the midst of a landscape that is totally unfamiliar . . . and Todd looks at me blankly as if nothing has changed. Is he deluded or schizophrenic or (?) himself, or is it a more sinister, intentional mind game he plays with me--trying to drive me crazy??? OR . . . maybe I actually am crazy--insane--mentally ill??? I don't know the answer, but I do know that it's hard to function in the simplest of tasks when you are questioning your own sanity.
One of my older daughters who was home during the argument came out from her room to comfort me. I apologized for the uproar. She said she understood. I said that Todd might be right--maybe the problem is all me. She then said, very precisely and deliberately: "Trust me. As an objective observer, I can tell you without a doubt, it's not you." I didn't want to get into it any more with her--to involve her in worries that shouldn't be hers to bear, so I welcomed the interruption of a phone call reminding me that it was time to rev up the mommy-taxi and go pick up the younger kids from their various activities. I wish I could accept her reassurance that I'm not insane, but I question whether the tie that binds mother and daughter is too strong for there to be true objectivity.
Work calls. The day is already more than half over, and I haven't started on my writing project yet . . . or hemming the dress my youngest daughter needs for a formal dance tomorrow . . . or numerous other bullet points on my never-ending "to do" list. BUT, Todd's paperwork is done. Now, all I have to do is try to pull myself together emotionally so I can really focus on my work. The producer on the project I'm doing just called and he needs a specific write-up delivered to him by tomorrow for a last minute meeting with some investors. Oh, and I'd better figure out what I'm making for dinner. My work day won't really get going until everyone else is fed and sound asleep.
*the mocking tone of voice indicated by "work" in quotation marks is because Todd says he only has about three hours of work today, and I know I have many more than that, but because I don't leave the house or punch a time clock, he seems to keep forgetting that I too have "work" to do -- I still owe work on a writing project for which I've already received an advance . . . and that's not to mention all the unpaid housework and hours of caring for and driving around his kids . . . .
