Kathleen McCall:
Occasional�� Muse�

2004-08-24 - 8:53 p.m.

Mentally Syndicated

Today I am just at a loss. When I have time, I am, anyway. When I think about it. I don't have very much time to spend being at a loss, which is a good thing; I had two jobs to go to today, each with things to think about and add to my to-do list and plan for, each fully absorbing. I had to deliver and then pick up two children to two different places at different times, and think about food for each of them (although my best friend fed me lunch, so I didn't have to think about THAT - thanks, lamb chop!) and do a grocery run. And there's plenty of housework left to fill the evening with, and if I don't end up doing all of it I could still do laundry and make phone calls. The mail is still waiting and I haven't found the papers on my house that I need to provide to the attorney.

So, in truth, I haven't much time to spend trying to figure out how I feel about what's going on between BF and me. Between me - that's right, isn't it? Not "between I"? Neither one sounds right. Maybe I ought to look that up. Oh, and I was going to look up how to install DSL and a router in my house so I can use my own computer and phone line occasionally without having to wrestle Older Daughter to the floor. Plus I haven't gotten that javascript running for the math homework website I'm building...

Avoiding? What? Oh, no. Not ME.

It's just that I really don't know how I feel. I only know a little bit, and that little bit is: not good. I don't feel good about it. When I think about it, sometimes I'm hurt, and sometimes I'm sad, and sometimes I'm HELLA pissed off, and none of these things feel very good. I don't like these feelings. I think I better go look something up on the Internet.

The problem with writing about it (see, I can also put off thinking about it by writing about the PROBLEM with writing about it) is that it keeps coming into my head as a Dear Abby letter, and I know damn well what Abby would say - at least I think I do. What is the point in writing to Abby when she's only going to kick your ass?

Is it a sign of growing up, when you've internalized Abigail Van Buren? Is she in there somewhere, along with Emily Post? I hope I have someone cool like Dorothy Parker, too. Do you get to pick? What if I've got Dr. Laura in there? I'd have to have her surgically removed. Is that covered under health insurance?

Dear Abby,

I'm a 47 year old single mother. Here's my problem: my boyfriend (I know that's a dumb word for a forty-seven year old to use, but you know what I mean) is confusing me. He says he's crazy about me, but he never seems to have time to get together. On the weekends where I don't have my kids, he's too busy or too depressed to spend time with me. I've told him I'd like to spend time together, I've offered invitations, but it just doesn't seem to happen very often. He doesn't invite me to his family occasions, or to his band practices, and on days where he has neither one he just says he's busy or tired. Oh, and recently he wrote to me that he thought he "wasn't what I wanted," but then he took it back the next day and said he couldn't live without me -- but still never mentions getting together. In the past few days, I haven't heard anything at all from him (he usually drops me a few e-mails during the day) but when I asked if something was wrong, I got, "No, why?"

Confused in California

Dear Confused,

You're too stupid for your shirt. If you want to spend your time trying to get someone to pay attention to you, then this is the guy for you. On the other hand, you might want to ask yourself why you'd want to have a "boyfriend" who doesn't seem to be particularly interested.

Abby

See? I hate it when Abby gets snippy (although I suppose writing to Dorothy Parker would be worse.) They don't understand; they're not here. There must be good reasons for this, or maybe it will get better in its own. Or maybe I'm misinterpreting, or maybe I can just wait it out, or maybe...

Yeah. It's not that I have to DO anything. I'm busy and there are a million things I can do, fun things and necessary things and productive things, that have nothing to do with BF and don't involve thinking about him. It's just the part where I DO think about him, and the feelings there are shitty, and that makes me want to DO something to make the feelings stop. You know? So I'm either going to write a really bitchy e-mail, or I'm going to go work on my javascript.

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