The matter with me

I think I figured out what’s the problem with me. I care too much, and not enough. For example, this week is back to school. There is an unwritten rule at my workplace that I can’t take personnal days between mid-August and mid-September. For the Zadorables, it means that I can’t miss work to be there on their first day, or that I have to reply to some Goddam crazy e-mail at 6:00 pm because some client is having a meltdown and I need to deal with this right away. It kills me inside.

It puts tremendous pressure on Lovely Wife to deal with all the paperwork, and she frakin’ hates paperwork. She hates it with a passion, and since I’m not helping, she hates me with a passion. This is where the “I don’t care enough” part comes into play. I’m a little tired of having to explain every single frakin’ year why I can’t help when September rolls around, and I just retreat within myself, thinking that if she didn’t learn anything about what I do in the past 8 years, she will most probably never learn, so why bother explaining again? Tonight she was freaking out because she couldn’t find the kids health cards, she asked me if they were in my wallet. I said no. She phoned her mom to ask he if maybe we had left them at her place, of if she thought they could be in my wallet. I walked to the kitchen and pulled them out of the jar where we keep the cards. The jar she was looking in five minutes ago.

I made some passive-agressive comment “Wow, back to school is really stressing you out”. We looked at each other, smiled and went on our separate ways. She went online to read the news, and I continued working. When House came on at 8, she sat in front of the TV and I went downstairs to watch Dexter.

And it’s only September 2nd.

I’m having a meltdown.

God help us.


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