191: Petty - but drip, drip, drip ...

 A couple of friends of my family - one of whom is also related to my wife - were due to visit over the weekend; one on Saturday and one on Sunday. I had asked her permission for both knowing that she would want to be involved.

I had also resolved that I really could not be bothered to cook and would get food in. But suddenly she decides to cook and, of course, I don't say no. But I know the stress ahead - everything last minute, kitchen a mess and stress (taken out on me / us) everywhere.

And that is what happens. I go to pick up the guest at about 6:30 on Saturday evening and the cooking has not even started. I come back and there is spilt milk all over the cooker. The plan was to watch the World Cup football quarter final together, Had I been cooking, all would have been done and dusted and ready to eat. 

Now, I could feel guilty about her cooking away while I watch the football but I don't - it is poor time management again and being a hero. We finally eat at 9 which was not the plan but the food is good and all is fine.

The next morning, I clean up half the kitchen and go to the gym. I come back and I can feel the tension. She asks me to unpack a new toaster she has bought. I go to throw away the bag and am told she wants to keep it to send other stuff back. I start to fold the bag prior to putting it away and am told that I am not doing it correctly! And so it continues, one petty instruction after another.

In the meantime, the induction cooker hob now looks to be permanently marked thanks to her - I can imagine the reaction had that been me!!! But I say nothing.

Today is Monday and I had been to the corner of Oxford Street and Regent Street to give blood for NHS Blood Donation and was relating the story - so I was conversing! 'Where exactly on the corner?' I confess I get annoyed and say 'what does it matter - you don't know every shop.' 'There is no need to be rude,' she says. Which is true but this need for irrelevant detail is irritating.

However, what I don't say is that it is a bit rich for her to talk about rudeness when our son and I have to put up with much worse every single, fucking day. She truly does not realise the effect she has on people.

190: The Job

 About two years ago now, she started a job at a small school.

I had always considered that M. was more enamoured about the idea of a job and its benefits than putting in the hard yards. But the role is tough, the school is strange, and she has buckled down over the last two years or more. She has bought herself a new car with the first year's earnings.

But there has been a lot of complaining throughout - when there was a boss who was completely hands-off and now when there is a boss who is clearly a micro-manager. The last few months mostly what I have heard is how she should get more holidays out of term time and what are her rights and so on. 

I had always believed that you needed to be doing really good work before getting frustrated and give the organisation every chance to recover the situation. But, yes, there can be bad bosses. The conversation, however, has not been about how she did a really good job here and there and was not rewarded - it has been about 'I work through lunch and so I should have more holidays in lieu.' Justifiable actually but narrow.

Today, she has gone to resign and blame that partly on racism - ironic given how often she judges others on playing 'the race card.'

And, actually, from the entries linked, it is surprising that she does not get on with a micro-managing, non-trusting, bullying boss - because that describes her as well! I have generally got on with hands-off bosses as they gel with my character. 

Anyway, I am being supportive and listening and not giving advice. I know from experience that sometimes there is no recovering the situation and crap bosses are crap bosses and it is best to move out. 

I did think about suggesting to her that she should not resign but basically work the minimum effort and continue looking for another job while in a job. Noting that, as the main earner, I would never have had the luxury of walking away. And she clearly does not remember her friend who took a job when her husband was made redundant and took a good while to find another role. This friend complained bitterly about her environment but put her head down and worked and still does so.

But, firstly, perhaps I was just never brave enough in my life to leave and, secondly, I do not want to be accountable in any way for her decisions - I have never been in the past and never tried to influence but always support. Yes, if I can leave her, then it is easier if she is in a job, or everything gets a lot more difficult, I suppose. Precisely because of that, however, I felt that my motives would be conflicted if I advised her not to resign.

So, I stay silent and wonder.

(and I have written about amnesia. In searching for the older entries, I come across other entries - Confidant: 73 - Yet more challenges to my value (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) and Confidant: 161: Trying - just trying (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) that remind about the anger and unhappiness that has rained down on me over the years. I will stay only because of pity and or duty - but that is not what she would want, right?)

189: Bursting into tears - don't know why

The other day I was watching an old episode of the West Wing where CJ Cregg goes home to Idaho and sees her father suffering from Alzheimer's. Suddenly, and this has happened twice in the car as well, I burst into hacking tears. I don't know why. Today (December 2nd) is my mother's birthday and the 6th is my father's death anniversary. On the 20th I turn 54 and I will become older than my beloved cousin. 

I wrote to my cousin's husband that I feel a lack of love around me. Who can I melt into? Who can actually just hold me? We were not that close emotionally, but I could with my parents, and I could with my cousin - with no words necessarily being said. Now, there is no one. Yes, friends would give me that comfort, but I would not want to burden them - they have their own lives. 

And, in the end, what does it matter? We all travel alone.

A few incidents:

She organises a trip to Brussels with her friend and gets the wrong month for the train and hotel bookings. They luck out and do not have to pay extra and now it is a funny story - but. boy, if I had been the culprit! 

Obviously, I do all that needs to be done at home in terms of shopping and washing - tasks I am not trusted with when she is home!

One morning, she specifically says before going to work, 'don't run the dishwasher, there's plenty of space for dinner things.' There isn't, there's a bunch of stuff in the sink, but I don't argue. At the end of the day, she spends an hour and half re-arranging things and there are as many glasses and things left over in the sink as there were in the morning - and I have to hang around because I cannot clean the rest of the kitchen until she moves away from the sink! Annoying in a petty way and I point out that her hour and a half of delay made no difference whatsoever other than stressing both of us out. 'You don't know how to load the dishwasher,' was her response.

The following weekend she is laid up in bed with a virus. I do everything again - quite rightly - but, given that it is winter, I put some of the clothes into the tumble dryer. 'You should not have done that. If you are going to do that, you need to let me know. His sports clothes don't go into the dryer.' (They had not and there was nothing wrong with any of the clothes I had put in.)

And, yet, while I am upset at the tone and the anger, ten minutes later it is all sweetness and light. Is that real, can it be real?! How can you be so nasty to someone whom you are nice to less than a half hour later? I confess I cannot turn anger off and on like that.

Bollocks.

188: The Dangers of Amnesia

The last week or so has been good. The environment has been calmer, almost fun. She went off to Brussels for a weekend with one of her mates and had a good time - the sort of thing I have been recommending for months.

Couple of weekends ago, she was out getting her hair done or something and I had gone to drop our son off at a school game. I could have done the weekly shop on the way back but of course I am not qualified to do so - being incompetent and all.

So, time goes and procrastination happens, the tension and time pressure builds. I have done what I need to do and am watching some TV. This clearly makes her angry as has chores to do - I have offered to help but I am not good enough to be be of any help!

Desperate for something / anything to have me do, she says, 'The garage desperately needs cleaning and there's loads of stuff to take to the dump,' in that crotchety, angry voice.

I had actually tidied the garage and it was fine - but I did not argue. I went downstairs and picked up three small items for the dump - her 'loads of stuff'. I confirmed with her that this was all there was. But I didn't mind - actually it got me out of the house and away from her for a little while.

This is petty I know. But it grates and the volume picks up until it begins to weigh heavily. And then comes a week or two of peace and I begin to forget - and consider myself silly for thinking the thoughts I do about leaving. But, as she herself has said to me many times, true characters do not change.

As she was leaving for Brussels, she appeared to say that I could fold the clothes that were hanging on the rack? 'I am allowed to fold the clothes - have I been promoted?!' Trying to make a point in a fun way.

'No, you have not. You put the clothes in the basket, but you can fold the racks. You have not been promoted to folding clothes and loading the dishwasher.'

Nuff said really. All about control and making the other feel incompetent. Cannot forget.

187: Taking the steps to the cusp

The Saturday just gone.

From the previous week she had been telling me that she would be going out to a recital on the Saturday evening. No problem.

Come Friday evening, she has had a bad week at work - more of that later. She has been going on incessantly about this recital.

We go to Parkrun on Saturday morning, and I say that I know - as a man - I am just supposed to listen, and I have. But a colleague once told me that in 30 years of work he could look back on maybe three years where all was good - enjoying work, being valued. I was just starting off my work life at that time and found that to be extremely depressing. Now, in my thirty years, I would say I have had maybe 7 years. So, frustration and all that is part and parcel, and you have to go with it. It was a reasonable conversation and the day progressed.

It was also our son's first day of half-term holidays, and he was, of course, on his PS4. Suddenly she gets into one of her rants about too much time on that and he has to do something else and so on and so on. Separately, I say to her that it is his first day of holidays ... 'but you will be working in the week, and he will play all day.' He is a conscientious bloke overall - even if he does play too much on the PS4 - and does not play in the week during term time and did pretty well in his summer exams. From next month, he will have two hours of driving lessons on a Sunday and probably sport on Saturday morning and so, along with homework, PS4 will reduce anyway.

'It's a nice day and we should have gone out. But I knew you would not be interested.'

'This is not on me,' I respond. 'For the last week you have been saying that you will be going to a recital, then this morning you said you would meet a friend. Neither of those happened through your choice and it is not possible to adjust constantly and instantly to your needs.' And I said it loudly - hopefully my son heard.

But then I found a film at the cinema that none of us was really interested in and asked my son to come with us - explained to him that sometimes we have to do things for others and thanked him for his understanding.

This sort of thing is not new though - see towards the bottom of the 2012 (!) entry.

As for work, yes, her boss is difficult. But she signed up for 52 weeks and now all I hear is how she should be allowed to take time off in lieu of half-hour lunch breaks. And how, physically, she cannot cope.

I have sympathy but this is a new boss. Be good, build a relationship and then look for flexibility. And as for the physical discomfort of getting into a new car and driving for thirty minutes each way - good thing she did not have to commute for one hour and a half each way for decades.

I had always considered that she was good with the rewards of work (money) but objected to having to do it. Some references I have seen from younger days basically say that she turned up - no initiative, no going the extra mile. 

I desperately hope I am wrong as my leaving will be easier if she is working well and earning. But I am almost there - do I wait for her 50th in January '23 or not?

186: FOMO

 This last weekend was a bit of a classic in terms of how her mind works.

An aunt of mine came to stay and arrived very late on Friday evening.

She was meeting her grown up kids and their partners in Central London for lunch and invited us. I sort of assumed our son would not go and so I said 'no' and my wife also did as she said she plenty of errands, needed to get her hair cut and apply for a couple of jobs, as she is unhappy at work right now.

However, my son actively enjoys the kids' company and so he says he would like to come and so I say we will join my aunt. Immediately, my wife, obviously suffering from Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) decides she can come as well.

Get back late on Saturday evening. Sunday morning I go to the gym for a bit and then prepare lunch for everyone. 

As I am not trusted with shopping, she does the shopping, with me along as porter. I pack everything away, run further errands and then my neighbour suggests a couple of beers at our local pub. Suddenly, a couple more errands arise - but I do them and head out. (Of course, I do not strip the bed properly and bring down the wrong thing for the wash - but, hey, what can you do with incompetence!)

I come back, our son has made his own dinner - I load the dishwasher - and neither of us is hungry after a heavy lunch. Only now does she sit down to start her job applications.

And I have no doubt whatsoever that she is thinking that she has been ever so busy and no time for herself. In reality, she could have had the whole afternoon in an empty house on Saturday and, failing that, had she thought me a little competent, most of Sunday.

Instead, she is in a mood and we are walking on eggshells. There was no confrontation as I let many other petty remarks pass.

But this thinking about her and what might upset her has been the constant refrain of my life - when is the 'when' when I walk?

185: Two pounds fucking fifty ...

This is a bit like 'on the cusp' ..

Our son has gone to a music festival and we are due to pick him up from the station at about 11 - not sure exactly when.

We set off far too early instead of waiting for a call and are parked on the street for forty-five minutes ... no problem with that.

Then we get a message that he is five minutes away and so I drive down to the station car park ... she decides that paying £2.50 is uneconomic and so we have to go round the block and find another spot nearby.

None of that is really an issue and the extra walk is about three minutes - but saving £2.50 ... really?! When there is virtually no economy made anywhere else?

It is all about petty control.

I bring down a particular pyrex dish to put something away, she wants another one. I want to do some specific shopping today and she suddenly has the need to do some tomorrow and I should wait till then.

One evening she specifically asks me to wipe down a particular part of the worktop - next to the sink. I do as requested and go upstairs for the evening. But clearly not to her satisfaction. 'Don't worry, you don't need to come down.' 'What for?' 'For cleaning the side of the sink - I will do it.' Passive-aggressive?!

Then, I do make a mistake. I had taken her passport in the side pocket of my shorts as ID to collect something for her. Despite reminding myself several times, I had not put the passport back in its usual place and it remained in the pocket when I placed the shorts in the washing basket. She must have found it when placing the wash - thankfully. 'You have my passport - do you know where you have kept it.' I remembered, and realised straight away that she was being passive aggressive again and said, 'in my pocket and you have found it.' My mistake and at least no blow-up I suppose. I should have but did not apologise and nor was one demanded.

Our lovely cleaner comes on Friday mornings and the guest room - where I sleep in the week - is cleared out by my wife in preparation. (But surely our cleaner is not so stupid that she does not understand that we sleep apart!) But seven, seven, pairs of shoes lie around in the hall! I can only imagine the lecture I would have got had I been the culprit.

I did a half-marathon last Sunday. Its finish was not so far from our place and I said that I expected to arrive at about 12:15 or 12:30. It turns out I start a little early and finish quicker than I thought and am done by 12.

I ring. 'We are about to set off,' she says. And the journey she was planning would have taken at least fifty minutes to an hour. So I walk to our friend's house where we are meeting for lunch.

I don't mind that she and our son were not there at the finish. I really could not care less. But is it not, at some level, evidence of a lack of care?

If she were reading this, she would say that she had had to do the weekly shop on Sunday morning - when shops do not open till 11.

And that is quite right. But I had offered to do that on the Saturday and been told that I could not / must not!!!

As I say, whether she was there or not, not an issue. But no or little idea of time, saying she was expecting 1:30 pm when I had specifically said 12:30 or so - she lives in her own world.

Her brother was visiting over the summer from India - staying away in the week but coming to us on the weekends. One evening he rushes home - even takes a taxi from the station - so he is with us by 7:30. Because she has told him that we always have dinner at 7:30 and he has believed her. We do keep earlier hours when I am around and organising the dinner, but certainly not by way of routine otherwise.

The brother was here on another evening, which apparently is her 'ironing evening'. And he is mystified why she is not ironing. So am I - why would she say this? She hardly irons anyway. I used to do the bulk - certainly mine and 80% of our son's. The volume has reduced as sheets are no longer done and lockdown means my shirts have reduced. But, in her mind, she probably lives in a world which is close to my mother's - doing all the work from shopping to cooking to ironing, and everything timetabled and to a routine. Couldn't be further from the truth! (When my parents were alive and we used to visit them, She used to take ironing with her and do it at my their place. At that time she was not working and, more pertinently, I did the bulk of the ironing anyway!! What was she trying to prove?)

Away from these incidents, it is a little peck here, a little peck there, sometimes a kiss. How can the same person exhibit such different behaviours from moment to moment?