As I looked at the number of posts per month dwindle from when I first started this blog, I couldn’t help but feel disgusted with myself. See, I would like to call myself a blogger. It has flair and pizzazz; a ring to it, if you will. Unfortunately, with my lack of updates and overall incompetence in the art of blogging I don’t feel I can call myself a blogger without joining the wannabe dregs and riffraff of society.
I would like to change that. I want to join to gleaming golden ranks of actual bloggers who update on a consistent and timely basis. The bloggers who don’t have as many apology posts as they do actual posts. Do I smell a new years resolution? I think I do, and it smells like Auntie Mae’s homemade apple pie. Scrumptious. I’m ready to jump back on the horse and ride into battle set on the only outcome acceptable…blogging victory.
So today, children, I would like to discuss an event that took place in my life this morning. Nothing exasperatingly special, just looking to get some things off my chest. First of all, I like doing things for people. I really do. It makes me feel splendidly delightful and I take pleasure in knowing I may have made their lives a bit easier and less hectic for the day. What I do not appreciate, though, is when family members automatically assume that they are absolutely copacetic in throwing their burdens on you without asking because well, hey, you’re family so you wont care. Let me explain from the beginning…
My sister and I go to stay at my dad’s house once a week and every other weekend. When we do, and I was still in high school, we would take our overnight bags with us in the morning and drop them back off at my mom’s house. If we didn’t do it before school, my dad would do it after he dropped us off. Fine. Since I’ve gone to college, my sister (she’s in 8th grade now) has done the same thing. The first time I came home from school, the madness ensued. There is no way I’m waking up at the ass crack of dawn to leave when my sister has to be at school, so I wake up after they leave my dad’s house. I walk into the foyer and sitting at the bottom of the stairs is a pile of my sister’s crap. Since I’m generally a very relaxed and patient person, and with this being the first incident, it didn’t really bother me and I thought nothing more of it. I loaded all of her stuff into my car along with mine and dragged it all into our house when I got home.
Enter scene stage right. It’s a new week/school day/whatever and I find the pile of bags there again. I now understand what is happening. I am being used and not asked or requested to do something as a favor. I have never said anything about this because my dad would most likely flip his shit and say that I was a lazy ass or ungrateful or something totally irrelevant to what I was asking or discussing. I just want people to check with me first or let me know they are leaving the bags. It’s ridiculous to just assume someone should do something for you without question because they are a family member. If I wanted to bring the bags home as a kindly gesture or my sister had a long way to get to school this would be a completely different scenario. I am not a baggage mule put on the earth to tote my family’s stuff around when I happen to be home from school. It’s not my fault I went to college and can’t cart your things around anymore. I think this is all mostly due my father’s aptitude at using people to get what he wants, but my sister doesn’t put any effort in either. How hard is it to ask if I mind taking her stuff home? Not hard at all. JUST ASK AND WE WOULD NOT BE HAVING THIS PROBLEM.
Anyway, today is where it really pissed me off. We had just been in Vermont for the last 5 days so we had more bags than usual. My sister needed to stop by my mom’s house before school to pick up some stuff she forgot and repeatedly woke me in the morning several times to find out where my key was because she forgot hers. Annoyance number one. I don’t have my car for the week, so my dad’s wife has to take me home and as I’m get up and walk into the foyer, there, once again, is a massive pile of my sister’s stuff. Vacation packing and all. Why in the world, if you already went home once in the morning to get the shit you forgot for school, would you leave your stinking pile of crap for me to bring home? You’ve already been there! I DO NOT UNDERSTAND! Leesa (my dad’s wife) said it was because they were running behind and didn’t want to waste time. Um, if you’re walking in the door anyway, what’s the difference if you’re holding a few extra bags to drop on the floor? None. So, I sent my sister a less than amiable text message and she responded that “she was going to bring it, but dad said no.” Yeah, okay. What the hell?
So we’ve learned a few things here:
- Ask and the world is your oyster
- If you’re already going to be somewhere, take your shit
- Don’t use your family members
- Use your God-given brain
I’m going to go shovel. Aren’t you glad I re-entered the blogging world with such a warm and loving post? Tell me if I’m overreacting though and my simple request to be asked/notified is over the line.