Hating Myself Right Now
There is an elderly woman here in town that I just can not stand. She bugs the hell out of me. Why? I've no idea.
It's not that she's a bad woman. She always is baking and bringing cookies and cakes to people. A very religious woman. Always wants to help, but rarely can. Greets everyone by name, and if not with a hug, a huge grin. Hell, I usually love people like this! It's because of these things, that I feel like a shithead for not being able to stand her.
She had to move about a month ago, and since she needed some help, I helped out. (I'm a good neighbour, dammit!!!) It worked out great... I never had to deal with her.
A whole lifetime of memories, and things representing them, had to be moved in one afternoon. I got there after helping my cousin move in the morning, so by the time I arrived, they were roughly half done. That's still a long way to go.
The basement of the new house was crammed with her stuff, and we had at least seven pickup loads to put down there. I started looking around with a friend, and we noticed that her earlier help had just thrown things in, with no regard to packing, stacking, shelving, or utility access. You couldn't get to the water main or the breaker box. I decided to tackle the task of reorganizing while packing away the newly arriving stuff.
I was down there for hours. All by myself, except for my beer(s). I loved it. Truly. By the time I was done, everything was packed away and stacked nice and orderly. I felt pretty damn good! And, I felt good about not having to deal with her!
Why tell you that? Maybe so that I don't feel so bad... you know, make myself sound like a good guy. And because now I really feel like a heel.
Last night I ran into the bar for chow and a beer, and she was in there. She hands me a small envelope and smiles, says, "Sorry I'm late." WTF!!! (No I didn't actually say that!)
It was a handmade Thank You note signed by her and her family.
It's not that she's a bad woman. She always is baking and bringing cookies and cakes to people. A very religious woman. Always wants to help, but rarely can. Greets everyone by name, and if not with a hug, a huge grin. Hell, I usually love people like this! It's because of these things, that I feel like a shithead for not being able to stand her.
She had to move about a month ago, and since she needed some help, I helped out. (I'm a good neighbour, dammit!!!) It worked out great... I never had to deal with her.
A whole lifetime of memories, and things representing them, had to be moved in one afternoon. I got there after helping my cousin move in the morning, so by the time I arrived, they were roughly half done. That's still a long way to go.
The basement of the new house was crammed with her stuff, and we had at least seven pickup loads to put down there. I started looking around with a friend, and we noticed that her earlier help had just thrown things in, with no regard to packing, stacking, shelving, or utility access. You couldn't get to the water main or the breaker box. I decided to tackle the task of reorganizing while packing away the newly arriving stuff.
I was down there for hours. All by myself, except for my beer(s). I loved it. Truly. By the time I was done, everything was packed away and stacked nice and orderly. I felt pretty damn good! And, I felt good about not having to deal with her!
Why tell you that? Maybe so that I don't feel so bad... you know, make myself sound like a good guy. And because now I really feel like a heel.
Last night I ran into the bar for chow and a beer, and she was in there. She hands me a small envelope and smiles, says, "Sorry I'm late." WTF!!! (No I didn't actually say that!)
It was a handmade Thank You note signed by her and her family.
<< Home