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When You're Just Tired

I love my mother, really I do.  If I didn't she'd be homeless cause she sucks as a roommate.  Not in the ways that would make someone suck traditionally though.  She washes the dishes most days--but typically while you may still be eating because you just got home from work or running errands for her so now it looks like you're a jerk because she wants to finish the dishes before you have started savoring your meal.  She cooks but nothing you asked for, want or desire to eat at any point in your life.  She vacuums excessively but cannot for the life of her remember how to open the canister on the vacuum cleaner to empty the accumulated mess.  And even though we have a senior bus system that can take her where she wants to go whenever she basically refuses to use it because it doesn't cater to her whims in the same way you do.

This week 4/5 work days had me out until at least 8 PM even though one of them was technically a holiday but we went to see a speaker.  After each of them I asked what I normally do, do you need anything before I come home.  Yep sure do and they are all in different parts of the very large store.  Fine, grab those and come home.  A few days later she needs 2 of the same 3 things but a new one that makes no sense and she wants them now because I may not want to go get them on the weekend.  Now I'm sure you're wondering why call her when it's just going to extend your day.  Well for those of you that are not enjoying the perks of a parental roommate it's because if I don't call then I get a 20 minute plus lecture about how I never ask if she needs anything (and I'm selfish and I could have asked if she wanted something else to eat for dinner or whatever rant has infected her brain) even though I daily ask if she needs something. 

Today I just wanted to sleep and take care of remaining stuff for work.  I got dinner I didn't ask for and fussed at because I didn't stay in the kitchen to explain what side dish I wanted to go with the dinner I didn't ask for.  And I was thinking about my next vacation and that it won't actually be one because instead of running from my brother's place like normal she suddenly is joined to my hip when I want to go visit for a few days.  Tomorrow I will hear that I was being spoiled or standoffish but the confines of my bedroom are the only sanctuary I have when I need to recover from work and caretaking.  So I'm going to finish watching Coco Gauff play tennis, hope Novak pulls it out, read for a class and practice my drums.  And maybe tomorrow the pasta I've been craving will appear without extraneous commentary.

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