exit5's Journal

Working on week 2 of icky cold-thing.  A cold in the middle of summer is bad enough, but having it in Florida has got to be a really damned sick joke.  Fever?  How can you tell?

Have not taken my Welbutrin (Are there two L's?  I am too lazy to check and really just don't give that much of a shit.) in 2 weeks.  I feel like a little kid who's in trouble:  I don't want to tell my shrink (similar to not wanting to tell the dentist, no, I haven't been flossing 14 times a day like you want me to because I hate it!) and am pondering cancelling my appointment next week.

I have not seen my therapist since she made me cry.  That day, I did make an appointment before I left, but she called and left a message telling me it was cancelled and offered me this day at this time.  I called her back and said that day at that time did not work for me and in fact that entire week was bad for me (I actually did have stuff going on besides not wanting to see her again so soon).

That, to me, constitutes "tag, you're it."  But she did not call back.  Oh, so I guess I'm being childish.  Mmm, selfish AND childish.

Yeah, well, in my defense, "Whatever."

Just pause for a minute and enjoy the irony.

She crossed a line and this time, it bothered me.  Of course, the bother didn't set in until after I had departed her office.  Part of my whole, huge problem is that my brain works too slowly to register things of this nature onthe spot.  Somebody offends me, says/does something to which I have a right to object to, and I just, just...do the deer-in-the-headlights thing.

It's beyond just not being assertive.  I don't consciously think, "OK, this person said/did whatever that I could be offended/insulted by and regardless of whether it was meant that way, I DO have a right to 1). seek clarification and 2). voice objection if appropriate."  I stand there thinking, "WTF?"

Now, in my defense, I always try to be polite.  Well, I used to.  In the days before my husband, I could have mingled and dined with the Vanderbilts and the Posts and even Ms. Baldridge.  But now, I just don't bother.  Why should I?  Stupid question, I know.  But my husband's table manners are not particularly good.  They pass at McDonald's and Applebee's.  Not that we go to may places fancier than those too often.  I'm just annoyed after this weekend.  And I digress.

To explain the digression, we were at a nice, nice restaurant, me with my cold and running nose, and his manners were the usual.  But there were only 2 other diners in the little alcove where we were seated, so "nobody" would notice his manners but me.  This excused me from using my best manners, so I said, "You'll have to excuse me, but I'm blowing my nose right here."  I had the conscious thought that I should excuse myself to the ladies' room and then honk away in there.  But I just didn't care enough to go through all that.  And actually, I'm disappointed in myself for it.  I should have used my very best manners at a place that offers a lady a dark napkin if she is wearing a dark skirt/pants/dress so that she does not get white lint on her skirt/pants/dress.

Back to my politeness.  I have read in some etiquette book (by one of the aforementioned gurus) that when confronted by a possibly rude/intrusive question/comment/remark, an acceptable response is, in order of mildest to most--but always polite--outrage:  "Excuse me?"  "I beg your pardon?"  and "How dare you!" 

One starts with "excuse me" to suggest that what one thought she heard surely must not be correct, even though she heard quite clearly but is not sure of the meaning.  "I beg your pardon" underscores the fact that what the person has just repeated cannot actually be what the person meant.  Dramatic pauses and looks of bepuzzlemnt also should accompany these responses.  Finally, "how dare you" or "how dare you blah-blah (insert meaning one has interpreted as offensive/insulting)" politely conveys the fact that one has perceived an insult and presents an opportunity for the offender to clarify, retract, apologize, or go on being a now acknowledged asshole.

Once you get an asshole to acknowledge being an asshole and he/she contines being an asshole, the tables automatically turn.  Unless you're dealing with a psycho-asshole.  There, etiquette is not going to help.

I am wa-a-ay off my point again.  Oh, yes.  My therapist.  She started on this "my boyfriend does this" rant, which really has nothing to do with what my husband does.  Which was what I was talking about at the time.

Dirty clothes get left where?  Odd places.  But that has nothing to do with whether my husband wears boxers or briefs.  Now I have this vague image in my head of her boyfriend who in her description has a nice body in boxer-briefs and Birkenstocks.  Somehow, I suspect he doesn't quite look like Brad Pitt in the movie Troy--but then, who does?

If you know, introduce me to him.  Just for a little eye candy, that's all.