I heard a great story years ago about a kid whose mom asked him to make her some eggs. She instructed him to scramble one and fry the other. He, being a “good egg” and of course wanting to please his mother, did just that. He stood and beamed proudly before his mother, presenting her with what he understood to be the answer to her heart’s (or stomach’s, if you will) desire; eggs, one scrambled, the other perfectly fried! “Oh. NO!” she protested. “I wanted that one scrambled and the other one fried!” pointing ruthlessly at his obedient offering. For me, this kind of crazy-making relationship is, at minimum, challenging, not to mention arduous, given all that we each attend to every day.
Some version of: Dropping kids off after school (three different places, three different times); work deadlines; pressure to keep your job (which you were hoping to leave this summer to start your own gig); pressure to compete (especially now); pressure to be original (wow, that’s easy, since there hasn’t been an original thought in, what, a thousand years); friends calling in real crisis and friends in perpetual crisis; staying fit and young and sexy and…time to re-do the kitchen, send the kid to college, get your parents in to an extended care home (if they don’t kill you first).
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And oh! I got my period and have had it for three weeks now (hmm, wonder what that means) check the strange-shaped spot on my nose, mammogram apt. at 3, floss, (don’t forget to floss or you could have a root canal), and RELAX! why don’t you (with all that extra time). Yoga, yoga, yoga, but not before you flip off the prat who snuck in front of you in the parking lot and took your spot, ‘cause obviously they needed it more than you, (so, naturally, you pray for him) and did you renew all your online monthly charges with your new credit card because the other one expired, and what was that hospital bill for, I wasn’t in the hospital last January, and did I forget to pick up the cleaning and what am I going to get my girlfriend for her birthday, (mental note, get Cathy a B-day pressie).
OMG, I forgot to call my brother—it was his anniversary last week, or was that my niece’s graduation…no, the soccer championship. Speaking of grass, the dog ate the sprinkler line, I think it was the sprinkler line (I wonder if that’s expensive?). And answer my emails, on both accounts, which means I have to call Comcast…again, because it was down this am. And don’t forget to return that lady’s call, the really nice one I met at the fundraiser I was at a few months ago, that I ran into at Whole Foods and told her I would get together for tea this week for sure (which is what I said last time). Wait a minute, no beating myself up here, we are far more evolved than that…or are we? Arghhh.