Attention: Universe
Re: New Year’s Resolution
I hereby, being of relatively sound mind, resolve to spend 2011 disappointing people.
Let it be shown that I am not responsible for others’ expectations. If another chooses to place an expectation upon me without my approval, I am not obligated to either acknowledge or fulfill that expectation.
To wit:
To the woman at the Creature’s Webelos meeting: I formally decline your invitation to help plan the Boy Scout’s Blue and Gold Banquet. Despite the strong belief that I owe you, a stranger, no excuse or specifics, I swear (or affirm) that I do not have the emotion margin to care whether you serve fried chicken or spaghetti. I do not have the capacity to sit through an hour-and-a-half long meeting discussing the need for coffee. I wish you well, but I am resolved to sit here, reading The Picture of Dorian Gray on my Kindle, before collecting my child and returning to my husband who is suffering from a horrible sinus infection.
To the new member of our writer’s group: I understand that you are a published author who might even make a living writing Christian historical romances. And I appreciate your concern about me, someone you’ve never met before. Yes, I have made a mere $35 in my writing career. Still, I respectfully decline to take your advice to bring any material before I am ready to bring it. And the fact that you make a living off of Christian historical romances really does nothing for your credibility.
To the friend of a friend who has no husband or kids and posted Stephen King’s quote about if you don’t have time to read, you don’t have time to write: You have no husband or kids. Your job is as an independent representative for a cosmetic company. You—nevermind. You annoy me. Bugger off.
To my boss #1 whom I love and appreciate dearly: I want to do the best work I can for you. You hired and trained me in a job I enjoy and that gave me the flexibility to work around the schedule of the Creature. And I understand how vital my job is to your business. But when you refuse to hire me as more than a contractor, and then give me work five days before Christmas, please don’t be surprised when it doesn’t get done in a timely manner. Christmas, in-laws, Maj Tom and the Creature home, and a horrible cold, sadly, all take precedence. Oh, as does the new regular job with more hours and higher pay. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the attention you needed when you needed it. If you had to try to work with man, child, and in-laws in the house, while literally choking on your own phlegm, you would understand.
To the worship leader: I want to be a rock star. I want to play like Eric Clapton or Santana. That’s not gonna happen. I have seen that picture of you up on a stage, rockin’ your Strat’. That picture was taken when I was four years old (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but I know you met your wife giving her guitar lessons when I was about four). I would love to take lessons and be as cool as you. Instead, I commit to showing up for practices and every Sunday I’m not out of town. And occasionally picking up the guitar during the week. But I will always need sheet music, and I will never be able to play tabs.
To the grandparents of the Creature: My job is to raise your grandson to grow up to be a not-an-ax-murderer. I understand the culture of the times leads you to believe this includes the absolute necessity of passing on school pictures to you, his grandparents—pictures that look like a police mug-shot of a stoned child. But in reality land, this is not necessarily so. Yes, it bereaves me beyond belief that this means you seem to think we need family pictures taken that look like something out of a church directory. But so be it.
Finally, to our financial advisor:…Ne’rmind. Just looking at me sends you into a rage, and the feeling’s mutual.
To my husband and my kid and my sister and my boss #2 and my small group and you fine hobbitses (and hirsute elves): I am going to disappoint you. But I don’t want to. I like you guys. I like who I am when I’m around you. You seem to like me more than the things I can do for you. You let me breathe and mess up think things through for myself. Strange how that makes me want to not disappoint you.
You know, besides the odd one-day-late article.
Apropos of nothing: I went hiking on my way to work this morning (yay for spontaneous hiking!) and saw the biggest coyote I've ever seen. I didn't have my camera, though. Maybe next time.
This isn't the coyote, this is my creepy-eyed dog. But the coyote was about the same size.
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