I awoke early, went out and purchased my food contribution, came home and promptly fell asleep until 5pm.
Anyone know what I can do with 50 half pints of Hagan Daz?
The fact that I missed this fucking thing is a big problem. The joke of the office is Chris never attends any events. Seeing that I am the boss and are forced to appoint people to organize these bullshit get togethers, I really should make an appearance.
Yet I simply do not want to. I have enough of these people Monday through Friday and in my free time, the last thing I want to do is to make small talk with folks I wouldn’t befriend if I met them outside the office. The only reason we have these events is the staff insists on them.
Personally, I would rather ask them to split the grand they cost and go shopping. Just leave me the fuck out of it.
You may think I am antisocial and you would be absolutely correct. I barely have the time or inclination to talk to the people I like let alone those I don’t. As a matter of fact, if it weren’t for text messaging, I would have lost the few close friends I do have long ago. One of the prerequisites for being my friend is to not expect to hear from me often and still remember I love you to death. I takes a strong person to hang in there and for those that do..big smooches all around. My ideal down time is a good book either on ipod or paperback, (Kindle is the devil's invention) my fluffy pillow, a glass of merlot and complete silence.
The problem is I actually have fun when I do hang out with people I like. I have fun, they have fun which leads to being invited again.
And I would love to do that.
In six or eight months.
To make matters worse are the obligatory hangs. Those are the ones with the princess’s friend’s parents or SCM band wives.
First of all, I am at least ten years older than the other parents and have zero in common with them. The shit they are going through, I did with number one son a dozen or so years ago. On top of that, they are mostly SAHMs which is one of the situations that come with sending your child to private school. Dad makes some good buckage and Mom gets to make healthy lunches and sit on the side line at soccer practice. I do not have that luxury.
Two situations come into mind that threw me for a loop. The first was when I had a birthday party for the princess at my home. A dad attended that had the reputation for buddying up to the other fathers that had lucrative careers. Looking around my home admiringly, he asked what my husband did. When I explained he is a part time musicians that does odd jobs, he looked perplexed and walked away. I really believe to this day it never occurred to him that I am the one that supports the household.
The other was when my son was being evaluated for a learning disability by a psychologist. We were talking about his background and his relationship with his father. When I told him the relationship was shaking at best, he commented that his father must be pretty active in his life to be willing to pay for private school. Ummm, no. Those checks are written by yours truly.
I guess two situations in ten years isn’t a trend but it really does say that some of us are still back in Ozzy and Harriett days of America.
Hmmmm, and how the hell did I jump to the social economic changes of the dynamics of the family unit in the twenty first century?
Afterall, what I really need to know is what the fuck I am going to do with all this ice cream!