posted on February 20, 2010 at 12:11 pm by Khali
As if life weren’t complicated enough… It seems that every time I sit down, or turn around, or even think about doing something for myself for a change, the world hands me a pile of extra shit to deal with. It’s like “oh, you’re stressed? Well, I think you can handle THIS too!” and shovels all sorts of crap at me. Right now, suffice it to say that I’m finding life to be a bit overwhelming. I have a list and its longer than I will get into here but it can be borken into categories.
School: The list of all the little things I need to do is shorter now, there are only 2 things left and one is proving to be an extreme pain in the arse. Moving: the how, where, when and what of that is all up in the air and that makes me anxious. Not the least of which is how to get the cats over there with the minimum angst. Teenager and her particular curve ball at this moment (which is the source of my toxic irony). I have that image of Jack Bristow in Alias staring Vaughn down and saying “One thing you’re not, is wise,” before turning and stomping off to save his daughter. Then there is J and his health and my inordinate tendency to worry. And then there’s work.
Fuck… I need a holiday.
Posted in journal | No Comments » | Tags: obsessobsessobsess, random stupidity, rant, step-parenthood, teenage angst, wicked stepmother, wtf
posted on January 20, 2010 at 3:56 pm by Khali
Well. I think I said before that there was no manual for being a parent, let alone being a step-parent. That being said, I have a fair feeling that I am sitting in the classic role of “wicked” step-parent. I decided when I found out (out of the blue, I might add) that the Teenager was coming back, that I was going to continue as I had before and be the backup. I will back up J’s discipline and be the one he bounces ideas off of and the one to suggest things. But because I am decidedly NOT her parent, I can’t be the one to deliver all the discipline. I won’t let her talk down to me, or back to me, but in regards to her being grounded or otherwise punished for crap behaviour, that is something she will see J deliver and me enforce. I think this will limit her resentment on just one of us. I mean its not fair for her to spend all her energy rebelling against one of us rather than both. This way I become an extension of J and not the go-to for the easy way out. I am a sympathetic ear, but I’m not the scapegoat.
This whole thing about wanting to do self-paced school is a symptom of something else, I’m sure. The same thing that the attention seeking and tendencies towards shitty, drama-filled relationships are a symptom of as well. I have my opinions, but I will keep them to myself.
Regardless of our best efforts, I fear the Teenager is making some questionable choices.
Listening to: Grow up and Blow Away - Metric
Reading: Macbeth - William Shakespeare
Posted in journal | No Comments » | Tags: oh smeg, step-parenthood, wicked stepmother
posted on January 16, 2010 at 6:59 pm by Khali
Ever have the feeling that you’re freefalling and the world is rushing up into your face? Or like the world has decided to hit you in the face with everything that it can find?
I’m surprised that more people are not overwhelmed by life. I think I feel that right now because there are so many things on my plate. Things to do, things I want to do, that when there seems to be a moment to breathe I just collapse into braindeath.
Ok, it may not be a lot as in my entire world hasn’t been demolished in an earthquake like those poor people in Haiti, but it is a lot in that there are things I have never done before. It’s unknown territory and that is scary because there’s really no map, and I have no idea what to expect.
At work, I’m working on hiring my replacement. I’m leaving for several reasons, not the least of which is that I am going back to school. Secondly, these past couple of years I’ve learned that the position I have there is not one that I am 100% comfortable in. Not that I mind running things, I mind not having the support network I’m supposed to have. I feel like I was thrown in headfirst and while I’m keeping things afloat, I will never make that place shine. I have asked on more than one occasion for help, for training etc and I have recieved the barest minimum of each. My boss talks about making an investment, but he’s not willing to spend the time to do so and I, in all honestly, am not the one he should be spending the time on. It’s not a career I would have chosen and there is a lot to be said about loving your work. One should not dread weekdays because it means going to work.
That is one reason why I’m heading back to school. I’ve taken a couple of years to think seriously about what I wanted to do and I keep coming back to the same thing. And so I have started the process. Transcripts will be sent next week and I will be sending the rest of the package shortly after that, now that I’ve heard back from all the little things I had to do before. I will have to wait for several months until I know whether I am accepted. This is more than a little nerve-wracking, considering that I’m giving up a decent job before I will even know if I have been accepted.
That’s not stressful at all.
In the meantime the house is once again graced with a teenager. Parenthood is one thing, but step parenthood is quite another. I can see on the one hand what it is she’s lacking in support, but at the same time she’s also lacking discipline and a sense of responsibility. (I didn’t really have one at her age either, but given her past life experience and the role model she has in her mother, I’m not sure that’s something she can readily develop without some serious tough lessons learnt on her part.) What I am finding it hard to do is to be tough with her. I can be firm and I can support J, but I can’t be the one to deliver edicts because that merely turns me into the ‘evil stepmother’ and she doesn’t listen to me anyway because I’m ‘not her mom’. I am attempting to do what my mother did with me, which is to give her enough rope to either work it out on her own or strangle herself with it.
Ugh..
And today, there is water on my kitchen floor. Landlord says it’s from the roof, only I don’t know how that could be, since I’m on the third floor. I can has a break now pls?
Listening to: Rabbit Hearted - Florence + The Machine
Reading: Brilliance of the Moon (Tales of the Otori, 3) - Lian Hearn
Today’s Project: cleaning the house, laundry, groceries (what day off?)
Feeling: overtired
Craving: nachoes
Posted in journal | No Comments » | Tags: apartment, step-parenthood, work
posted on May 11, 2009 at 6:54 pm by Khali
This week…. Well, it’s been longer than a week since I last posted, hasn’t it? So I shall rephrase. This last interval has been a tad hairy, thus the absence. Long story short, I think I might be able to relax for five minutes now. Perhaps I shouldn’t say that since Murphy has a tendency to rule my life.
No one ever made the mistake of telling me that step-parenthood was going to be easy. In fact most people rolled their eyes and cringed when I mentioned that J’s daughter was coming to live with us. She’s 16. I’m sure you can do the math. I’m sure you all remember what you were like at that age and cringe at the fits you probably gave your parents. Thing is, I think only half of it is intentional. She’s a smart kid and it’s infuriating that she seems to have no desire to use her brain because it’s too much work. I suppose it comes from being raised in an entirely different atmosphere. I don’t think she’s ever been held to a routine that involved chores, ever. In fact I get the distinct impression that she managed to weasel her way out of whatever was requested of her so many times that she just expects that that is how it works. Right now, she’s peeved that we don’t eat at what she considers a “normal” time and contrives to always be elsewhere so she doesn’t have to eat when we do, or what we do. We’ve suggested that she get a job because J and I can’t afford to maintain the level of spending that she’s used to (this kid must have fifty pairs of shoes!) but she has only tried half-heartedly. She doesn’t really need to because there always seems to be someone willing to fork over some money for whatever she wants. I despair of teaching her the value of money this way. I can’t help it, I care about how she’ll fare when she’s out there on her own but I’m sure that anything I say right now on the subject sounds more like the adults in the Peanuts cartoons or just plain nagging than anything.
It is also equally obvious that she is not used to talking to other people with a proper measure of respect. (This is not entirely unique to her, since I’m fairly certain it’s a trademark of her generation – and not just her age group. Check back with me in ten years and I bet you I’m right on this one. I may even fill you in on why I think this is/will be/might be true.) She keeps throwing the “respect is earned” thing in our faces, but she still talks down or back whenever she gets the chance. Getting her and J to communicate and not jump on each other at the first opportunity is a huge challenge, because J, of course, can’t stand being spoken to like he’s he teenager. (Who does, really?) They’re both so very good at pushing each other’s buttons and it’s a royal pain in the arse to bet out the nerf bat and beat them into submission and/or a place where they can talk like normal human beings. I get that they each want to be treated with respect: Kiddo like an adult and J like the elder. ‘Course, Kiddo is not an adult yet and she’s certainly not behaving in a manner that suggests we should treat her that way, but they’re both so busy being reactionary that I’m getting tired and confused. Because of that I’ve suggested counselling. For all of us. I’m tired of talking at cross-purposes and I can’t figure out how to get them, and me, on the same page. I’ll try anything! I’d like us to be a family after all.
J and I seem to be doing well in spite of everything. It seems that things have conspired to make us work together - not that we weren’t trying to do so before. It just seems that we have more things that require us to form a united front these days than we had before. We’re talking more and making more of an effort to communicate how we really feel about things rather than letting them slide into growliness and angst. We were so good at that for so long that it’s been a bit of a challenge, but neither of us was willing to accept the alternative. This makes me happy. We’re rediscovering what it is we loved about each other in the first place.
We had our birthdays this last weekend and treated each other to MP3 players so that we can have our own respective tunes. It’s a pretty awesome present I must say. (Thanks, Bear.)
In other news, work is weird and things keep happening to make me think that my time there is more limited than I originally thought. My boss doesn’t seem to think that I know my market, or what I’m doing, which is only half fair. I’m learning as I go, but I know for a fact that my branch doesn’t operate the same way that others do. The numbers back me up. As for going out and getting more big clients – well, there is only so much one can do in this kind of atmosphere. This place is totally tourist oriented and I mean totally. There is not the volume of import/export that there used to be.
And to that effect, tourists still amuse me. They are the one part of the job that makes it worthwhile. I mean sometimes we get the occasional “dick-bag” as The Music Fiend (that being my newest teller) calls them, but on the whole they are either very nice, or very amusing. You’d think the things they ask would stop amusing me, but it never gets old. For example:
This one lady comes in earlier today and she has this very puzzled expression on her face. She puts her purse up on the counter and leans close to the glass and says to The Music Fiend:
“I’m confused,”
“Oh no!” says TMF. “What can I do to help?”
“Well, I put my bank card in the ATM and asked for some money and I don’t know what happened!”
“Oh no! Did it give you a receipt or anything?” TMF asks, thinking that perhaps the machine rejected the card.
“Yes!” says the woman and pulls out her wallet. She pulls out a slip of paper and then several twenties. “Yes and it gave me these too, but these aren’t American at all!”
“Oh,” says TMF as she takes the paper and the twenties in through the slot. “This is easy to explain. You see, the machine gave you Canadian money.’
“But I asked for sixty American!”
“Well, you typed in 60 probably, right?”
“Yes,”
“The machine gave you 60 dollars. All it has in it is Canadian you see.” There’s a pause and I can see the woman thinking about this. It’s obvious she had never thought of the machine having anything in it before. It makes me wonder what people think about how they work. If I had asked her before this experience would she have even thought about the actual physical existence of the machine, the physical reality of the money inside it?
“But it took out 60 American from my account!” the woman says, a slightly hysterical look in her eye as she points to the receipt.
“Don’t worry,” says TMF, your bank does the conversion for you; you only withdrew 60 Canadian worth.”
“Are you sure?” she asks suspiciously.
“Positive,” says TMF in her firmest voice. Again there’s a pause, but after a second there’s a visible slump of relief in her shoulders.
“Ok, so what do I do with this?” she asks, gesturing at the three queens in TMF’s hand.
“How long are you in town?” TMF asks.
“Three days,” the woman replies and TMF smiles.
“You’ll need this then,” she says and slides it back to the woman.
“But aren’t all the prices in American?” she asks, the edge of hysteria creeping back onto her face.
“Actually, they’re in Canadian. You are in Canada here after all,” TMF explains.
“Really?”
“Yes, that’s why the machine gave you Canadian money.”
“Oh,” she says and stares at the green money for a moment before stepping away. “This is so new for me,” she says and leaves the store. TMF turns to me and opens her mouth, but nothing comes out - I can’t help it, I burst out laughing.
Now, before you say I’m being mean, this happens with many people, not just American tourists. I mean I suppose it’s not something one thinks about, but I think that if you really did you might come to a logical conclusion. What gets me is that no one actually thinks about how things work, they just take things for granted. Anyway, that was the highlight of a stupid day at work. It amused me. Leave me alone.
On the writing front. I’ve written nothing. Zip. Zero. Zilch. I blame lack of time and stress. Those may be lame excuses, but thats what excuses are. Lame. Truth is, I haven’t taken the time to sit down and write. I’ve let life distract me. Life and all the crap and noise and whatever that comes with it. I am the queen of procrastination.
listening to: Ferry Corsten - Down on Love
reading: Charles de Lint - Widdershins
eating: stew
drinking: pepsi
headspace: a cluttered attic
feeling: flat
Posted in commonplace book, work | 2 Comments » | Tags: blargh, life, step-parenthood, the things tourists do, what lovers do, work
