Hello from an undisclosed location nowhere near where you suppose! I’m enjoying the Witness Protection Program. No one knows me, here, which I’m finding suits me just fine. All the better to hide me with, my dears.
So here’s the thing. I am In Control. It’s sort of my thing, being in control. I have a limited skill set, it’s true, but the control thing? Got it covered. As long as I think I’m in control, things are good.
Kids are cared for. Bills are paid. Responsibilities are met. Friends are checked on. Snarky jokes about my inability to find employment are cracked. Etc.
Carefully I stack up the various cards, admiring my finesse. It’s not much, but it’s mine. I built it, and it works. As long as, you know, no one sneezes near it, or anything.
Today I thought something really disturbing had happened, and I didn’t so much sneeze as actually exhale fire on my tidy little house of cards. I was still sweeping up metaphorical ash when I found out that I was mistaken; the event in question hadn’t happened. It was a joke. And that should’ve made me feel better.
Let’s be clear: I’m fine. My children are fine. Nothing important has really changed, either way. I may have a few (dozen) more grey hairs, but other than that? No palpable difference between today and yesterday.
Except that today, I feel stupid. Today I feel weary of trying to understand other people. Today I am keenly aware of my life being built from flimsy cards that don’t hold up well to the unexpected. Today I can’t take on anything more.
I hope to someday learn to build out of something a little bit stronger. Straw, maybe. Sticks? Pop-tarts? But today, all I have is cards. Don’t knock them down. Because it takes fucking forever to build these things. And there’s no better way to alienate a control freak.